Pulling Teeth
by Moonofwinds
Summary: Summary: Ratchet's lost one too many patients. He isn't losing this one.  Warning: Gratuitous violence, torture, m/m/m robot alien smut. That should cover it. Eventual Twins/ Ratchet. Jazz/ Prowl. Now COMPLETE! Happy New Years!
1. Chapter 1

Pulling Teeth

I am notorious for taking a long time to update. You have been warned.

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers; I'm just prostituting it for my amusement.

Summary: Ratchet's lost one too many patients. He isn't losing this one.

Warning: Gratuitous violence, torture, m/m/m robot alien smut. That should cover it.

Pairings: Eventual Twins/ Ratchet. Jazz/ Prowl.

Getting slagged was not on Sideswipe's list of things to do today. It was just a bright, perfect day, all he wanted was to get his impromptu mission over with and go for a nice long race with Sunstreaker. Sure, Sunstreaker was with him now but they were on guard detail. Wheeljack had invented another tool designed to improve their lives, but in they end was better as a weapon to bring about the end of the world. The recycling box of death needed to be destroyed and Wheeljack, having blown himself into four separate pieces, was not up for the job. So Perceptor had been assigned the task of taking the box to a remote area of the flats surrounding the Arc and detonating it.

As punishment for a prank war with Jazz that had ended with a sea of bubbles taking over the wash racks, and staining Optimus hot pink, Sideswipe was on security detail, despite it being his cycle off. Beachcomber was with them to guide them all to the the appropriate disposal site, and act as Preceptor's transport. Sunstreaker had come along for kicks.

"Why did Jazz get out of this?" Sideswipe muttered.

"Because he's sleeping with an officer," Sunstreaker replied.

"Jazz is an officer as well," Perceptor pointed out.

"There ya go," Sunstreaker said. "He's sleeping with an officer and he's an officer. Besides, I don't think there's anything Optimus can do to punish him that Prowl can't do worse.

Perceptor made a sound of discomfort. The relationships of officers, and Autobots in general, were not something he cared to know too much about. Sideswipe and Sunstreaker shared a laugh. Beachcomber ignored them all together, not because the subject was uncomfortable for him but because he hadn't heard them. As usual, the natural world around them had his complete attention.

Beachcomber was slow, slower with Perceptor added weight and he moved like a snail. Sideswipe ached to stretch his shocks and burn rubber but at this rate his next duty shift would be starting before they were done babysitting.

"I don't know why a minibot had to lead the way," Sunstreaker complained. "Hound would've been faster."

Sideswipe glanced over to Beachcomber, who rolled his eyes, and back at Sunstreaker.

"Ya, i think that's kind of enough," he said.

Sunstreaker muttered to himself and Sideswipe soothed him over their bond. The day was going to be long enough without Sunstreaker trying to get a reaction from Beachcomber but it would be even longer if Sunstreaker got cranky with him. Sideswipe became instantly more focused on their surroundings as they entered a gorge.

'You decided to tag along,' he reminded his twin.

'I've got nothing better to do,' Sunstreaker replied.

'Well Beachcomber's fast enough,' Sideswipe said. 'Maybe we can get this finished before our next shift.'

The next thought Sideswipe had was of searing pain as something exploded under him and tore into his undercarriage and throwing him through the air. He transformed and tried to to drag himself to his feet but he couldn't move, couldn't really even speak. The searing pain bled to a numbing cold.

"Sideswipe!" Sunstreaker yelled as shots rained down all around them. He transformed as well and leapt to his brother's side. Returning fire, he dragged Sideswipe behind a cluster of rocks. Beachcomber and Perceptor were already taking cover behind another group of rocks. Vaguely, Sunstreaker heard Beachcomber calling for help.

Sunstreaker hoped he was calling the Arc, because he was not moving. He shielded Sideswipe with his body and scanned the skyline. 'Primus damn all Seekers.'

Somewhere above them, at the top of the gorge, Starscream whooped with excitement. Sunstreaker couldn't hear any other Decepticons but Seekers, like trouble, always came in threes. Laser fire seemed to be coming from everywhere. He kept his optics on the sky but it remained clear. Molten rage coursed through his systems.

"Come on and show yourselves slaggers, so I can slag you to the pit!'.

Despite their affinity for flight, the Seekers kept their cover. The best Sunstreaker could do was try and fire along the lines were he saw the Decepticons' shots but it was little better than futile. He felt little better than a target on the firing range.

Beachcomber was firing back too, he wasn't totally useless but they both might as well have been. They were out gunned and outclassed. A cluster of fire hit the rock formation where Beachcomber and Perceptor were sheltering. Sunstreaker fired shot after shot at every angle he could. If they were undamaged they would have to join him and Sideswipe if they wanted to stay that way.

Both mechs in question took advantage of the cover fire to make a run for Sunstreaker and the intact formation. Beachcomber added his own cover fire to the mix and apparently Primus was feeling merciful because they stumbled to safety seconds later. Beachcomber perched not far from Sunstreaker and kept up the heat. Preceptor cautiously tried the ease Sunstreaker away from Sideswipe.

"I might be able to patch him until help gets here," Preceptor explained. "But I need you out of the way."

Part of Sunstreaker wanted to rage but the saner part kept control and made him move aside and let Preceptor get to work. He felt like a traitor, even though he was just a foot or so away he felt like he was abandoning his brother. He could still feel Sideswipe over the bond so he new his brother's spark was intact but he could also feel is brother's pain and he knew Sideswipe wouldn't last much longer without help.

"The others are coming," Beachcomber said in that slow droll of his. "A few of 'em were out for a drive not so far away. They'll be here soon."

The minibot's attempt to reassure him raised Sunstreaker's hackles. He didn't need his sympathy or comfort, he needed the others, namely Ratchet the Hatchet, here now.

Beachcomber glanced sideways. Sunstreaker was an abrasive bot at the best of times and Beachcomber would forgive him for it, under the current circumstances. Right now, Beachcomber would forgive him for socking him in the face, If it helped the yellow race car keep it together.

"Hang tight, guys," Jazz's voice crackled over the intercom. "We'll be there in a jiffy."

Why wasn't Jazz laying in the dirt with his coolant bleeding out and his insides ripped to bits? It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair, slag it. Why did him being an officer make him immune from petty punishment? He should have been there too, not off gallivanting with Prowl.

"A jiffy won't be soon enough!" Sunstreaker snarled back unable and unwilling to contain his anger.

"We have Ratchet with us as well," Prowl interrupted.

Sunstreaker did not bother responding. That might have been the best news he had had this click, the Hatchet was the bot Sideswipe needed most right now. The Seekers seemed to have honed in on Perceptor because they were getting all the fire now. Perceptor kept Sideswipe's prone form shielded as he tried to stem the damage.

Primus was looking over them, better late than never. For Aces, the Seekers couldn't seem to make a hit.

The cavalry arrived after what felt like hours later, but it must have just been minutes. Prowl and Jazz led the charge while Ratchet hung back and made a be line for the besieged bots. It wasn't a pretty sight. A pool of coolant covered the dirt around Sideswipe and the expression on his twins face could only be described as feral.

Sunstreaker was covered in dings but was oblivious to them. His fresh coat of paint, wasn't it's usual gleaming perfection, it was scratched and rough. After he had Sideswipe up and going again, Sunstreaker would surely be on Ratchet in seconds to fix all the cosmetic damage. There was no if about repairing Sideswipe. Ratchet had lost so many patients over the millenia but the the memory of the most recent losses, bots who's names he had never known to Decepticons, who didn't matter, haunted him.

Thank Primus for Perceptor.

"Optimus and the others are clicks away," Ratchet said as he dove into the task at hand. Perceptor was a silent, but priceless aid. Ratchet had to plug the holes in Sideswipe's systems before he bled out. It was triage at best but a full repair job would required his tools back at the Arc. Still, he just needed to stem the flow. If he could just patch Sideswipe up just a little bit, he could last until the battle was over and he good be taken home. Slag it, there was no if. He would!

Sunstreaker didn't even look at him. If he didn't keep his eyes on the battle, he would lose it all together. Ratchet was here. Ratchet would save Sideswipe and everything would be okay.

Just then laser hit just inches from Sunstreaker's leg and less than inches from the recycling box of death. The machine rumbled and Sunstreaker's circuits ran cold. Beachcomber pulled the box over to himself and tried to shield it from further fire.

As he focused on Sideswipe, Ratchet couldn't hear the battle. Couldn't hear his comrades shots or movements. His every sense was focused on his hands buried deep in Sideswipe's obliterated chassis. Bypass that circuit for that one. Cover the torn and tattered tubes with band aids that were little different than duct tape. Sideswipe's spark hummed just an inch from Ratchet's hands and he took a peculiar comfort in it. As long as it hummed with life, Ratchet hadn't failed. His hands almost shook. There was so much damage. Prowl had taken a hit once like this, eons ago, Ratchet had saved him. But then, that bot, what was his name?... Ratchet hadn't saved him.

Stop, focus. Forget the dead, just forget them right now. Focus. Focus on the spark humming next to your hand. Focus... Ratchet could feel Sunstreaker through Sideswipe's spark. The yellow Lamborghini's spark shouted at Ratchet. Save him. Save him. Save him. Save him!

Primus.

Had he stopped the bleeding?

The ground actually shook as Beachcomber took a hit and crashed down against the box.' Primus, Wheeljack, how do you come up with these things?' The minibot struggled up, a hand clenching his grazed side and the other trying to move the box before he returned to the fight. Ratchet watched the box. One more hit like that and it would shred them all into scrap metal.

"Firstaid can finish the job at the Arc," Ratchet announced to Perceptor who looked up at him in bewilderment.

Before anyone could voice a complaint, before Ratchet could come to his senses, he took the box and transformed into his alt mode.

"Ratchet!" Sunstreaker yelled.

Ratchet didn't look back, didn't turn back. He put his gears into drive and rolled out as fast as he could. The shouts of his comrades faded behind him. There was only one thought in Ratchet's mind now, get the box away. It didn't matter where, just away.

Slag! Shrapnel tore into Ratchet's rear left tire. When had the slagging Decepticons started using landmines? Ratchet forced himself forward. His axle was still spinning, he could keep going. The box hadn't blown him to Primus. Drive, just drive.

Before he couldn't think, before he could blink, Starscream was in front of him. Ratchet swerved hard, but there was Thundercracker. He swerved again, Skywarp. The Seekers closed in. He swerved again, a gorge wall. There was nowhere else to go.

"Toss that box over here, Autobot," Starscream demanded in that shrill grating voice of his.

"Fine," Ratchet replied mirthlessly as he transformed again. "Take it."

Slag him, but Starscream had some sense of self preservation. He dodged the box and shot into the air just as the box crashed and exploded just feet from where he'd been standing. Shards of metal ricocheted around throwing Ratchet onto his back and scoring hits on Starscreams's fleeing chassis. Ratchets optics offlined

Slowly he opened them. Slag. Starscream smirked down at him.

"That was not a good idea, Autobot," the red Seeker almost purred.

"Have you failed me again, Starscream?" Megatron demanded as he landed close by.

"It was a bomb, glorious Megatron," Starscream replied. "However I have captured the Autopots' medic."

Megatron smiled and Ratchet's circuits went cold.

"That is something, isn't it?"

End Chapter 1.


	2. Chapter 2

Pulling Teeth

Chapter 2

I told you I take my time updating.

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers; I'm just prostituting it for my amusement.

Summary: Ratchet's lost one too many patients. He isn't losing this one.

Warning: Gratuitous violence, torture, m/m/m robot alien smut. That should cover it.

Pairings: Jazz/ Prowl. Eventual Twins/ Ratchet

"Ratchet!" Sunstreaker yelled. "Come back!"

The crotchety slagger didn't even look back. Panic lanced through Sunstreaker. He couldn't leave Sideswipe. Even if he wanted to they were totally pinned down. The slow outmoded bot was actually drawing some of the fire but it was obvious that the Seekers had gathered some back up of their own. Primus damn it! There was no way Ratchet could get away from flyers.

"Ratchet!" Sunstreaker yelled again even as the medic disappeared from view. Over the sound of the battle, Sunstreaker first heard then felt the explosion. No. No.

He couldn't hear his own scream over the laser fire and cries of his fellow Autobots. Prowl shot out from behind him. They were all warriors. No one needed to speak the plan. Sunstreaker fired intentionally over Prowl. As he looked up, Sunstreaker saw half a dozen Decepticons pop up from behind their positions above the gorge. The Seekers shot into the sky. Sunstreaker's optics narrowed, a snarl reverberated in his voice box. He would slag them. Slag Starscream. Rage heightened his focus and he took aim.

Shots rained down from all around them. Sunstreaker ducked low behind the outcrop. Firing up at the cliff top, his chance to slag the Seekers was lost.

"Prowl!" Jazz yelled.

The black and white mech was smoking from a hit to his side. Sunstreaker's hand reached out and grabbed Jazz's shoulder before the black and white mech could jump into the line of fire. Sunstreaker didn't know what to say, or what to do. He met Jazz's optics, the prankster looked crazed.

"He's still functioning," Sunstreaker said after a few seconds and let go of Jazz. "We need to draw their fire."

"Check," Jazz said in a low voice. He fired mirthlessly over his mate.

Sunstreaker felt like a hypocrite. He would have thrown off Jazz's hand and raced to Sideswipe, to hell with the consequences. Nothing would have stopped him. Thank Primus, Jazz was smarted them him. They were outnumbered badly enough without Jazz getting offlined. And Prowl was functioning, rolled on his good side and shooting up at the Cons.

Where the Cons had numbers, at least they had no skills. The surprise battle seemed to have become a stalemate. Too much time was wasting away as they traded laser fire. Prowl wasn't taking as many shots, the ground beneath him was slowly staining with energon. Sunstreaker felt Sideswipe's pain echoing in his spark. They were stuck, and Primus only knew what state Ratchet was in.

Then the Cons seemed to retreat. It only took Sunstreaker a second to realize that a barrage of fire was coming from behind him and up at the Cons. Obviously, the cavalry was here. As the battle grew quiet, the Cons skittered off like the vermin they were. The only sound in the gorge was the stampede of wheels as the others finally arrived.

Saying nothing, Jazz ran from the outcrop and knelt next to Prowl, helping him up. Sunstreaker finally allowed himself to actually look at Sideswipe. His brother was in stasis but he was no longer bleeding out.

"What happened?" Optimus asked no one in particular.

"We were ambushed," Sunstreaker said. "Slagging Seekers buried explosives in the ground and hid on cliff."

"Where's Ratchet?" Optimus asked, quickly realizing that the old medic was nowhere in sight.

"He ran off with the box," Jazz said as he slowly joined the group, supporting most of Prowl's weight. "There was another explosion, after the Seekers went after him. I think the box went off."

Optimus took it all in. He was silent as his optics scanned the mechs in front of him. Wearily, he ordered:

"We're returning to the Ark. Sideswipe and Prowl can't wait for repairs. We'll launch a rescue operation once we've regrouped."

"This doesn't feel right," Sunstreaker said, not meaning to speak aloud.

"You're right, Sunstreaker," Optimus said. "But we cannot risk any other Autobots getting damaged because we went in blind."

Sunstreaker obeyed, probably more out of concern for Sideswipe than for loyalty to Optimus. He would be on a frayed wire's edge until Sideswipe was back online. But in the back of his mind, Sunstreaker was haunted with fear for the Hatchet. What in Primus name were they doing do him?

"Get repaired before Hook is otherwise occupied," Megatron ordered the Seekers. All three were missing panels, but Starscream was in the worst state; he was missing part of his leg.

"I'd rather have Skywarp repair me than Hook," Starscream replied with a sniff. "As it is, I will repair myself. Well, come on, help me to my lab."

The feral smirk that Starscream gave him as he left made Ratchet's energon run cold. He would have liked to struggle and fight but with the two Constructicons hold his arms and the fact that his left leg was of no use to him, Ratchet knew well enough that it was a lost cause. The best thing he could do for himself and for the Autobots was to buy himself time and just stay alive until Optimus organized a rescue.

"Well Hook," Megatron chuckled. "It would appear that your schedule is completely clear."

The Decepticon commander looked directly into Ratchet's optics, sneered and said:

"This is an unexpected pleasure. As an officer of the Autobots, you most definitely have all the access and security codes of the Ark. Of course you aren't going to just tell me them. You would never just betray your friends so easily. So Hook is not going to make it easy."

Ratchet looked to Hook who smiled broadly. Unconsciously, Ratchet swallowed hard. His processors flared with terror and panic. Experience and age had taught him to regain control quickly. Puffing himself up, Ratchet looked directly into Megatron's face and glared defiantly at the 'Con.

"There is nothing you slaggers could ever do that will make me betray the Autobots, Bucket for Brains."

Megatron laughed and his sneer widened. He seized Ratchet's chin and smiled cruelly.

"Hook," he said. "It is time for you to show this out mode just how wrong he is."

"Scavenger, Bonecrusher," Hook said. "Take him to my workshop while I gather some extra... tools."

They didn't really walk Ratchet so much as drag him to the workshop in the bowels of the Decepticon lair. It was nothing like Wheeljack's workshop, which was cluttered but some how inviting. This room was cold, sterile, steel with an array of work tables and one slab with a bright overhead light. There were tools in the room that Wheeljack used but many more weren't even fit for a macabre autopsy theatre.

"Get him onto the slab," Hook ordered. He was assembling a tray of scalpels, cutters, torches, and several other things Ratchet didn't want to think about. Scavenger and Bonecrusher obeyed the arrogant engineer. Ratchet fought them out of reflex but the Constructicons had him pinned momentarily. He swore loudly and scowled at the lime green and purple mechs.

"Too often my subjects escape before I can finish my work," Hook said without looking at Ratchet. "So I devised an ingenious way to keep you put."

Hook turned around with a high powered drilled with a long metal bolt protruding from it. Wordlessly, but no less merrily, Hook pushed Ratchet's torso down on the slab and proceeded to started drilling through his upper chassis, his collar, and into the slab.

Ratchet screamed, his internal alarms screamed with him. The bolt ripped, and tore through the white metal of Ratchet's body slowly. Sizzling and sparking, heating the wound as it bored deeper. Even as Hook disengaged the drill, the burning pain didn't fade. Ratchet tried not to pant, tried to stop screaming. As a medic he knew there were no vital circuits in that part of his chassis but that knowledge did nothing to ease the pain.

Before Ratchet could really fully recover, Hook took the drill and a new bolt and repeated the torture on the other side of Ratchet's chassis. Ratchet was almost proud that he only gasped as the second bolt bore through his body. It was childish, but Ratchet was happy to deprive the sadistic mech of the pleasure of hearing him scream again. Hook only chuckled; the sound made Ratchet's spark seize. A third, than fourth bolt locked his legs to the slab at his thighs. Ratchet clenched his jaw and dimmed his optics, overwhelmed at the moment by the throb of the four wounds.

Time passed and nothing happened. The pain didn't so much dim, as Ratchet slowly adjusted to it. No one said anything. Internally, Ratchet panicked. What was he waiting for? Slowly, the medic opened his optics. Hook was looking at him from the side of the slab an expression of patience and pleasure on his face.

"Megatron always complains that I take too long to finish anything," Hook said after several long moments. "This time, I don't think he'll complain if I taken my time cutting the codes from your broken mind."

"I will never tell you slagging defective pieces of scrap a damn thing," Ratchet said with a raw edge to his voice.

Hook snorted and grinned. He bolted cuffs over Ratchet's ankles and wrists, leaving his inner arms exposed.

"You know," he said. "They always say that."

The engineer hummed to himself for a time, looking at his tools.

"But I'm going to cut and burn your will away until you beg me to let you tell me everything. Sooner or later you will tell me everything... I hope it's later."

And still, Hook did nothing more. As each minute passed, Ratchet wondered if waiting for the torture was worse than the torture itself. In the end though, he really didn't want the answer.

"Let's get started," Hook announced some time later. Ratchet shrank inwardly as Hook showed him the laser scalpel and preceded to cut his way through the armour of his abdomen. Instinctively, Ratchet tried to pull away from Hook.

His shoulders and thighs screamed with agony as the sides of their wounds scraped against the bolts. Ratchet choked back a scream. He couldn't get away from the scalpel that cut along his stomach. He shuddered and moaned but that only made everything hurt so much worse. A strangled gasp escaped Ratchet as Hook tore away a rough square of his armour.

"I know I could have just unscrewed your armour," Hook said, almost cooing at Ratchet. "But where would the fun of that be?"

"Defective..." Ratchet hissed.

Hook seized hold of tubing in Ratchet's abdomen and cruelly pulled them apart. Ratchet was silenced by the horror and pain. Alarms rang in his mind. Coolant bled into him and over him. Hook took a moment to take it all in. Shock had frozen Ratchet's mouth and optics open in an expression of horror and bewilderment that made Hook's circuits hum with delight. The old medics coolant made Hook's fingers slippery as he tore apart the tubing and fused them back together in a tangled mess.

Ratchet burned as his systems overheated and burned still as his systems froze. His body writhed with violent convulsions as coolant rushed through his warming systems and his warming fluid boiled through his coolant systems. He was breathless, speechless. He couldn't think. Energon bled from his thighs and torso as the spasms caused the bolts impaling him to grate against his energon lines.

He didn't even hear Hook's chuckle as the engineer stepped back to bask in his work.

Sunstreaker watched silently as First Aid put his brother back together. The med bay was a buzz. Jazz was trying not to fuss over Prowl as they and Optimus weighed their options. There was no doubt that they would launch a rescue but how was still open to debate. Everyone was giving Sunstreaker a wide berth. As always, they were cautious around him when Sideswipe was damaged.

But Sunstreaker wasn't actually seething over Sideswipe, through their sparks, he knew his brother was out of danger. Instead, his thoughts were off Ratchet. Energon rouse in his throat.

'There's no way you're dead, Hatchet. I'll get you away from those slagging Decepticons and they'll never get a chance to touch you again.'

End Chapter 2

A/N: Reviews feed my muse. You don't want her to go hungry, do you?


	3. Chapter 3

Pulling Teeth

Chapter 3

Thank you for the wonderful reviews, my muse is fat and happy.

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers; I'm just prostituting it for my amusement.

Summary: Ratchet's lost one too many patients. He isn't losing this one.

Warning: Gratuitous violence, torture, m/m/m robot alien smut. That should cover it.

Pairings: Jazz/ Prowl. Eventual Twins/ Ratchet

The med bay was never quiet. If the noise wasn't that of loud, injured and irritated bots, or Sunstreaker himself, who was really just loud and irritated, it was that of Ratchet himself. He would either be swearing while cleaning up after a large battle had brought bots in to his med bay, bleeding all over the tan floor or he would be grumbling over Wheeljack and his latest invention, growling, as he put the crazed bot back together.

But as Sunstreaker spied on the officers' meeting, the med bay was eerily quiet. It was as if all life and personality had been stolen from it with the capture of the Hatchet.

"Prowl will be sore for a couple of days but he's pretty much fully functional," First Aid explained to Optimus. "Sideswipe's damage was extensive. I've done the best I can, but I can't figure out what is causing the seizing in his leg. Wheeljack and I are trying to figure it out."

Ratchet's student looked weary. He was tired and frustrated and completely lost. Thanks to Ratchet, he had learned a lot but not nearly enough to take his place. They needed the grizzled old bot back. Optimus looked almost equally strained, and even more grim. He nodded to First Aid and turned to Prowl.

"Thank you First Aid," Optimus nodded said. "Sideswipe will be out of this mission. Hound scouted the battlefield and has confirmed that Ratchet isn't out there. We have to assume that the Decepticons have captured Ratchet. Prowl, you had a suggestion."

"We don't know the layout of the Decepticon base," Prowl said. His optics were dimmer than normal. It wasn't from the lingering discomfort. "We can't go in lasers blazing. We need to know where Ratchet is in the compound so we can avoid him getting caught in the crossfires."

"What do you suggest?" Optimus asked.

"We send in Mirage first," Primus advised. "He can located Ratchet and gather a layout of the base and the report back so we can launch a rescue."

"Jazz," Optimus ordered. "Find Mirage and give him his orders."

With a brief nod Jazz hurried from the too quiet med bay in search of the spy. Sunstreaker slipped out the med bay's side door and rushed to Sideswipe's and his shared quarters before he would intercept the Towers Mech.

Prowl would have his armour for this, of that Jazz was certain. He wondered if Sunstreaker actually had thought he could eavesdrop on him, the head of Special Ops? Probably, Sunstreaker, wasn't known for his intelligence. All the same, it worked for Jazz. Obviously, Sunstreaker was going to follow Mirage, or team up with him. Mirage wouldn't report back to Optimus, no. He and the Lamborghini would stage their own rescue attempt and get Ratchet back without delay. There was no bot Jazz respected more than Optimus, but he couldn't in good conscience leave Ratchet at the mercy of the Decepticons for even hours longer than need be.

He couldn't tell Prowl though. Prowl and all his logic would argue with the lack of it in the plan. And out of loyalty, and that damn logic, he would warn Optimus, like he told him everything else. Oh Jazz respected Prowl and his intelligence. But he also lusted for him, loved him, admired him, fawned over him, and made it damn clear to everyone around them that he owned him.

Oh, Prowl would forgive him, especially once Mirage and Sunstreaker got Ratchet back, and everything would be fine. If it weren't for logic and the ability to see or to care about the big picture, Prowl would be first in line to go after their friend. With any luck, Jazz wouldn't be bunking with Mirage for more than a week once all was said and done.

Mirage was where he always was, pretending he wasn't with Cliffjumper.

"Optimus has a special mission for you, Mirage," Jazz said. "Not you, Cliffjumper."

The scowl Cliffjumper made, almost Jazz smile, almost. The very subtle goodbye from Mirage to the hot headed mini bot did make him laugh inwardly. He wondered which bot insisted on being so secretive. Given that Cliffjumper couldn't keep a secret to save his life, Jazz's money was on Mirage. Literally.

"We need intel on the 'Con base," Jazz explained as they walked down an otherwise empty hall. "You need to find Ratchet and report back his location so we can stage a rescue."

"I'll leave immediately," Mirage said with his characteristic haute mode tone.

"Get back as quickly as possible," Jazz said. "Ratchet is counting on you."

Jazz dismissed his subordinate and watched the Towers Mech rush off. The last line was a little tacked on but if Mirage had noticed, he hadn't shown it. Still, Jazz wasn't ready to breathe a sigh of relief. He wouldn't until Ratchet was back. He couldn't let himself think that Mirage and Sunstreaker could fail.

They could not fail. Not just because they needed Ratchet. He was a huge part of the soul of the Autobots and one of Jazz's oldest friends, but Jazz didn't think he could survive the guilt if they lost Mirage and Sunstreaker because of his subterfuge.

His spark ached with fear and uncertainty. He dimmed his optics and schooled his features. Prowl would probably guess that something was off with him but Jazz knew he would have to do his damnedest to keep Prowl from figuring out his trick. The sickening twist in his systems reminded Jazz just how much he hated lying to Prowl.

Mirage knew he couldn't go back to Cliffjumper and give him a proper good bye. The, rather, his minibot was tenacious and hot headed. It didn't matter what type of mission Mirage was going out on, Cliffjumper would demand to join him. Subtlety was not Cliffjumper's strong point, and this mission was all about subtlety.

It was a strange feeling. Not so long ago Mirage would have gone off on his own without any thought of saying goodbye to anyone. There really had been no one to say goodbye to. Actually, this was the first time he was going off on a solo mission since he had become involved with Cliffjumper. Leaving him without saying more felt like some sort of betrayal but Mirage could only hope that Cliffjumper would understand.

"Sides," Sunstreaker called as he entered their quarters. "I'm going after Ratchet."

"You are going after Ratchet, Sunny?" Sideswipe replied. "What's this you?"

"Your leg's glitching," Sunstreaker said. "You'd only slow me down."

"Sunny," Sideswipe said with an amused glint in his optics. "You're a jerk."

Sunstreaker shrugged. The twins sized each other up for a long moment before Sunstreaker admitted defeat. Without saying anything, not even over the relay, they left their room.

"So I'm guessing you haven't cleared this with Prime?" Sideswipe asked he followed Sunstreaker through the Ark.

"No," Sunstreaker replied. "They want to recon the slaggers' base before we haul ass and get the Hatchet back."

"And you don't want to wait," Sideswipe said.

"No," Sunstreaker replied.

"Awesome," Sideswipe said with a grin.

"I'm ditching you if you start lagging," Sunstreaker said. "We can't miss Mirage."

"Eat my dust," Sideswipe declared as he exited the Ark, transformed and shot off into the desert.

Mirage heard the twins before he saw them. They were less stealthy than Cliffjumper, given that there were two of them. He stopped, and prepared to convince the short fused Lamborghinis to head back to base. When they drove into view, they transformed, staring down Mirage as he did the same in turn. He was horribly outmatched. The anger and conviction in their optics told Mirage it was a losing battle but he felt compelled to put up a token resistance.

"You two aren't spies," Mirage spoke first. "You aren't quiet. You don't even think."

"Ratchet saved your life," Sideswipe said. It was a low blow. "He's saved all of us more times than I can count. We need to save him."

"Optimus hasn't abandoned him," Mirage entreated. "We can't go in half cocked."

"We won't," Sideswipe assured him. "Like you said, we don't think. But you do. You're going to do what Optimus ordered. You're going to find Ratchet. But then you are going to report to us and we'll get him back."

Mirage looked up at the sky and grimaced. 'I don't want to think of all the ways this can go wrong.'

"Fine," he said eventually. "But you are going to wait for me to come and get you. You aren't going to come barging in and getting us all killed."

"Deal," Sideswipe said and reached out his hand. Mirage looked at it. Sideswipe was obviously making fun of him, but Mirage shook the red Lamborghini's hand despite his misgivings. Later, he would be sore to realize that Sunstreaker had not agreed.

Ratchet couldn't even feel panic. He couldn't even think clearly enough to decipher the difference between the scorching fluid and ate at the lining of his systems or the piercing chill that froze them and threatened to offline him completely.

Time didn't pass. Language didn't exist. There was nothing but agony.

But time did pass. Suddenly, his systems normalized as Hook properly rerouted his systems. Ratchet's internal alarms quieted to an angry hum. He blinked. Once, twice. His vision cleared and Hook's self-satisfied face materialized.

Just as his vision normalized so did his thoughts. Ratchet felt no shame at the wave of anger that passed over him. The slagger was toying with him. Whatever tortures Hook inflicted upon him, the Decepticon would hold back just enough not to kill him. It made Ratchet feel like an insect or a rodent under a microscope. The thought may have pissed him off more than the pain.

"Slagger..." Ratchet's voice was raw as he swore the thin curse.

"Megatron actually thinks that I am going to bleed the codes from you," Hook said with a sick grin. "But you and I both you know that you will never talk. I'm going to have a hell of a lot of fun playing with you while we wait for Megatron to run out of patience."

"Defective son of a toaster oven," Ratchet hissed. What he wouldn't given for Wheeljack's recycling box. He would have loved to toss the slagger into it and watch him be reconstituted into something useful. Like a bread maker.

Hook laughed. There was so much mirth in that laugh Ratchet fought to stop himself from shrinking from the noise.

"Helpless, old bot," Hook crooned and patted Ratchet on the forehead.

Ratchet snapped his head back and bit down on the offending hand. He ground his teeth into Hook's fingers and felt more than a little triumph as he felt the metal give under his attack. Hook wrenched his hand free and clutched his damaged limb. There was silence for a long time. Hook's eyes optics burned cold and he smiled grimly.

"You're going to regret that."

Ratchet smiled back with defiance and he said with renewed spirit: "don't count on that."

Hook retrieved his scalpel. Smoothly, neatly, he cut a path through the armour of Ratchet's inner arm. Anger would not make him careless. In fact, Hook thought it made him all that more efficient and thorough. Careful not to cause excessive damage too early, Hook exposed the vital gears and cables. Oddly gentle, he stroked one injured finger down the largest exposed cable. With no further ceremony, he flicked his good hand and sliced clean through the vital structure.

Horror transcended pain. There was nothing. Nothing more valuable to Ratchet than his hands. They were is most vital tools. He could do nothing, he was nothing without them. Hook looked knowingly back at Ratchet's horrified face.

All Ratchet could do was tremble.

End Chapter 3

Happy Halloween.


	4. Chapter 4

Pulling Teeth

Chapter 4

I think there will be two more chapters. It's winding up.

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers; I'm just prostituting it for my amusement.

Summary: Ratchet's lost one too many patients. He isn't losing this one.

Warning: Gratuitous violence, torture, m/m/m robot alien smut. That should cover it.

Pairings: Jazz/ Prowl. Eventual Twins/ Ratchet

The only use Ratchet had in life was as a medic. He had nothing else to offer. He wasn't a warrior; he wasn't young enough to learn new tricks. Everything he was was in his hands. Ratchet couldn't stop trembling. It should have hurt, the trembling but after that quick little flick of the scalpel, he was totally numb. In the background there was pain. Pain was still crying from his shoulders, and thighs, and abdomen. Pain was crying from from his mutilated arm but Ratchet was oblivious to it. He was shutting down. It was too much, it was just too much. He didn't really feel it when Hook cut one and then two tendons in his other arm.

They weren't alone in the room. Mirage held his hand over his mouth and struggled not to scream in disbelief and rage. A battle raged in his mind. Attack Hook, stop his attack on Ratchet, or hold back and retrieve the Twins. It would have been intelligent to get the Twins, discretion being the better part of valour, but what spurned Mirage to discard discretion was the expression on Ratchet's face. It was horror bleeding into apathy. He could almost see Ratchet fading away before his eyes, leaving only a living metal husk behind.

There were only three people in the room, and Mirage had surprise to his advantage. He couldn't bear to leave Ratchet in Hook's hands for even a second longer. Mirage dared not risk that Ratchet would be gone if he were to be left behind for even a few more minutes. Slowly, he edged closer, and closer to Hook.

An angry roar interrupted his careful approach. Mirage turned, surprised to see Sunstreaker charging from the open doorway, weapon raised and howling like a feral beast.

Mirage saw the flash of the laser seconds before he felt it impact his side. Pain came seconds later. But anger came first.

"Slagger, you couldn't listen to one simple order?" Mirage complained as he took cover. "Or at least be quiet when you decided to ignore the plan?"

"I don't do quiet, or orders." Sunstreaker snapped back, also taking cover. Hook's attack had broken through the blind rage that ruled Sunstreaker. He couldn't risk hitting Ratchet. But Hook had to die. He had to die horribly, slowly. He had to die by Sunstreaker's hand.

'You have to share,' Sideswipe spoke over the relay.

"Would you like to listen to my new plan before you go ahead and ignore it?" Mirage asked before Sunstreaker could respond to his brother.

Sunstreaker bit back a vicious retort but grudgingly waited for Mirage to lay out the plan. Oh the spy was going to get kicked in the tail for that. Even if he was right.

He didn't say anything. He didn't agree to listen or obey. He glared at Mirage which was as good an ascent as he was going get.

"I will distract Hook, and draw him away from Ratchet," Mirage said. "You slag him while his back is turned."

"Fine," Sunstreaker agreed. 'Coming, Sides?'

'Ya,' Sideswipe replied. 'I'm almost done.'

Mirage disappeared and Sunstreaker felt the energon race in his circuits. He rocked back on his heels and waited. Slag Mirage for being a stuck up, Towers' priss. Slag him for having the plan. Slag him for having a good plan. Slag him because Sunstreaker wanted to slag everything and everyone but Sides and Ratchet.

What was taking so long? How long did it take to walk across a room? Sunstreaker swallowed a growl. He knew through the relay that Sideswipe was almost there. He knew that only seconds had passed since Mirage had done his vanishing act but Sunstreaker wasn't feeling patient. He didn't really know what sign he was supposed to look for but he assumed that Mirage would be obvious.

A tool, feet away from Hook fell, catching the Constructicon's attention. Sunstreaker's senses sharped and he aimed his gun at Hook. The Constructicon stepped away from Ratchet. Just a few more inches and Sunstreaker would have a clear shot.

Hook took a step to his left, and Sunstreaker fired. At the same time as he fired, Mirage reappeared right behind Hook.

Too bad that was exactly where one of Sunstreaker's shots hit. On the bright side, another one hit Hook.

Mirage had the dignity to muffle his cry as friendly fire grazed his side. Sunstreaker felt guilty for maybe three seconds before the scowl on Mirage's face banished the feeling away.

"Thank you for shooting me," Mirage seethed as he ran after Hook, who was racing for the nearest door.

"Yeah, well you were in my way," Sunstreaker snapped back before he turned his attention to Ratchet.

"Hatchet?" He asked. The medic's optics were out of focus. Dread overwhelmed Sunstreaker and he couldn't mask the growing fear in his voice. "Hatchet?"

He jumped as a laser hit his bumper and burned a short path across his armour. Sunstreaker looked for his assailant, and immediately saw Mirage and Hook struggling over the Decepticon's weapon. When Sunstreaker looked back to the table, Ratchet was looking back at him. Sunstreaker was speechless. Ratchet was looking back at him. Irritated, snarly, wrench-throwing, Ratchet. He was so stunned by the sight before him that the only word he could must was hey.

"I'm not buffing that out," Ratchet said gruffly. "If you're stupid enough to break into this slagging place, you can repair yourself."

"Nice to see you too," Sunstreaker smiled widely. Butterflies danced in his stomach.

"The only thing you're good at is fighting," Ratchet scolded. "The least you could do is pay attention so that you don't get shot in the ass."

"Bitch, bitch," Sunstreaker said. "I'm getting you out of here."

"Did you bring a wrench?" Ratchet asked.

"Let's get you out of here."

"Well then, did you bring a wrench?" Ratchet asked again. "Because you're gonna need one."

Sunstreaker looked down at Ratchet and got a good look at the bot. Primus. Oh Primus. Energon was pooling on the floor in small puddles beneath the table under his back and legs. Ratchet's stomach torn open, covered in energon. Oh slagging Primus, his arms...

"Mirage!" Sunstreaker yelled. His stomach doubled over. Rage, and panic overwhelmed him. Sunstreaker looked wildly for the spy. The bot in question was sprawled over Hook in the far doorway. He didn't respond to Sunstreaker's hail; he was far too occupied.

"Calm down, hot head," Ratchet ordered. "There's a socket wrench on the table next to you. Pick it up. I'm going to talk you through it."

Oh no. No. No. No. No. Oh he could not do this. Oh no. He couldn't. This was not his element. He wasn't steady enough. He wasn't careful enough. Panic ate at his confidence and he would have fled if he could. But this was Ratchet. Ratchet locking optics with him. There was no way Sunstreaker would ever abandon him.

He didn't let go of Ratchet's optics. There was no outward sign of his panic. As he reached for the wrench, the panic seemed to ebb away.

'What's going on, Sunny?' Sides asked over the relay.

'Hurry up, Sides,' Sunstreaker replied. 'We're rolling in a couple of minutes.'

"Put the socket over the bolt," Ratchet instructed. "And start turning the wrench."

Sunstreaker did as he was told. Ratchet gasped and Sunstreaker paused.

"Don't stop," Ratchet ordered, his voice raspy. "Keep going. I'm not going to pretend it doesn't slagging hurt."

"You're the boss," Sunstreaker replied and steeled himself. He promised Ratchet silently that he would have him free as quickly as possible.

Ratchet barely cringed as each rotation of the wrench dragged the bolt against the raw wound. He felt every twist of the offending metal but the reality that it was Sunstreaker causing the necessary pain so he would be free of the metal slab that he practically felt was a part of him.

"How's Sideswipe?" Ratchet asked as the bolt came free from his shoulder. Sunstreaker was here. Sideswipe had to be okay.

"He's fine," Sunstreaker replied, giving them both a moment to study their nerves before he set to work on the next screw. "You'll see him in a minute."

"What?" Ratchet snapped angrily. "There is no way in Primus's name that he's in any shape to be here!"

"He's fine," Sunstreaker assured Ratchet, a gentle hand place over Ratchet's chest. "He just couldn't wait at home while I had all the fun rescuing you."

"Slagging idiots," Ratchet hissed. "Slagging, stupid..."

"Ya, well you're the one that decided to take on the 'Cons all on your own," Sunstreaker countered. The second bolt came free quicker than the first.

There was a long pause before Ratchet spoke. "I guess I was channelling you."

"Leave the stupid stunts to the experts," Sunstreaker said.

One explosion, than another rocked the building. Ratchet jerked surprise. Sunstreaker pressed his hand a little firmer against Ratchet's chassis..

"That's Sides. You might say he's channelling Starscream."

Megatron scowled at the ceiling as his fortress shook. He looked to Soundwave.

"What was that?"

"Booby traps, Lord Megatron," Soundwave replied. "Astrotrain seems to have detonated a landmine."

"Starscream!" Megatron growled. He leaped from his throne and stormed from the command room. "This will be the last time he rebels against me."

The fortress shook again. Megatron leaned against the wall to regain his balance as yet another explosion rocked through the halls. Fools. They were all fools. Who was the greatest of them, Starscream for attempting to usurp him or whatever pawns kept triggering the doomed Seeker's toys. The walk to the Seeker's lab was longer than it should have been. Megatron had made it a rule to keep the conniving bot close. He raised his arm to shield his head from the metal panel that fell from the ceiling.

"Where are you, you worm?" Megatron asked as he stormed into Starscream's lab. To Megatron's surprise, the worm in question was right in front of him, tools in hand, seemingly focused on making repairs to himself.

"What seems to be the problem, Lord Megatron," Starscream's voice dripped with sarcasm. Thundercraker and Skywarp, who were standing together next to Starscream, stiffened at the fury coming off Megatron in waves.

"Don't play innocent, Starscream," Megatron said. "You have failed me more times than I can count, and you have failed yourself in this final attempt to usurp me."

"What are you talking about?" Starscream asked, his voice just that much higher. "I presume there is a reason the compound is shaking?"

"Do you take me for a fool?" Megatron demanded.

"Oh no, Lord Megatron," Starscream replied. "Definitely not."

The other Seeker's winced. Each glanced about the room for an appropriate shelter when the shots were finally exchanged.

A vicious snarl marred Megatron's face and he seized Starscream by the neck.

"Do you have any other traps hiding around my fortress?"

"I don't know what you are talking about," Starscream said. He struggled to free himself from Megatron's grip.

"You're bombs, Starscream," Megatron said. "Where are the rest of them."

"We used them all in the battle with the Autobots," Starscream replied. "There aren't anymore."

"Then how are the exploding throughout my fortress?" Megatron demanded.

"They aren't," Starscream replied.

Megatron slammed Starscream against the nearest wall. The Seeker yelped in surprised and fear.

"I haven't had time to make anymore!" Starscream lamented. "I have been too busy repairing my leg."

Calm washed over Megatron's features. He looked down at Starscream's leg and saw the exposed wires. He then glanced over had the cowering Seekers. Starscream would never have trusted them with something like this.

"You two," Megatron ordered as he dropped Starscream. "Find Hook."

Sideswipe and Mirage rejoined Sunstreaker and Ratchet as Sunstreaker removed the final bolt from Ratchet's leg. Though Mirage's features were schooled, Sideswipe's flashed with shock and horror at the sight of Ratchet. A million questions and curses flooded the relay.

"What was all that," Mirage asked. He moved to help lift Ratchet from the table. Sideswipe swatted him aside. Mirage stumbled gracelessly back. Sideswipe's expression warned him off.

"I borrowed a few things from Wheeljack," Sideswipe said as he and Sunstreaker supported Ratchet.

He would never work with either of them again. Mirage promised himself as he checked the hall for 'Cons. Never again as long as he lived would he consort in anyway with these lunatics.

"How did you end up with these two?" Ratchet asked as if sensing Mirage's displeasure.

"They followed me like a pair of bad pennies," Mirage replied. "Before I step on something distasteful, did you leave anything in our path, Sideswipe?"

"Nope," Sideswipe said. "But go first, just in case."

The Twins didn't see the look of contempt and frustration on Mirage's face. Never again.

End Chapter 4


	5. Chapter 5

Pulling Teeth

Chapter 5

Sorry for the delay. My muse and I were not on speaking terms.

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers; I'm just prostituting it for my amusement.

Summary: Ratchet's lost one too many patients. He isn't losing this one.

Warning: Gratuitous violence, torture, m/m/m robot alien smut. That should cover it.

Pairings: Jazz/ Prowl. Eventual Twins/ Ratchet

Ratchet decided to be grateful for one thing, his leg joints still worked. He was sluggish and bleeding energon everywhere but he could move. It was horribly childish but he was annoyed and embarrassed that he needed the Twins to lean on. The medic in him, and really what else was there in him, was giving Mirage a once over as the spy led them through the dull silver corridors of the 'Con base. So far they hadn't come across anyone. They couldn't avoid leaving a trail. There was a trickle from Sunstreaker's aft graze, and Mirage was slowly leaking energon. Near as he could see, the spy's injuries weren't so much worse than Sunstreaker's. Ratchet could not even look at himself. He craned his head to look away, to look forward. He didn't want to see what he looked like. He didn't think he could keep himself together if he looked down.

He was painfully aware of the way the Twins were both supporting him from his mid chest. They were both doing their best to keep their hands away from his arms and stomach. Ratchet tried to brush it off as the commonsense of trying to avoid straining his shoulder wounds but he was only half successful. It took every ounce of stubbornness in him to keep from being a dead weight. He willed each leg to move. Each step was harder than the last. Whether it was the pain from all his wounds or the loss of energon, Ratchet felt himself shutting down. But but he was stubborn and he willed himself on.

Sooner, rather than later, will was not enough. As Sideswipe faltered, his grip on Ratchet weakened and the worn out old bot fell forward as his limbs refused to support him. His head spun and it took several moments before he was again able to focus. He hadn't hit the ground, Sunstreaker and caught him and had gathered him up into his arms. Ratchet lolled his head back to see Sideswipe. Concern must have been evident on his face because the red Lamborghini smiled reassuringly at him and Ratchet only just felt the energy to be annoyed by the expression.

"Just a little glitch in my leg," Sideswipe said. He shook it his leg. "Go on ahead guys, I'll catch up when I can shake it out."

"No," it was Ratchet he disagreed first, and maybe loudest. "Let me see."

"Not now Hatchet," Sideswipe argued. "We're still in the mine field."

Ratchet seethed and blustered. Mirage raised a hand as if to silence the other bots.

"I'll scout ahead a bit and see what's keeping the Decepticons," Mirage said.

Sideswipe opened his mouth to argue but Mirage was already gone. Sunny was angry at him. He felt the bright anger snarling through their relay. He returned the anger with his own frustration and fear. Ratchet looked bad, worse than bad, Sunny needed to get him home. His brother must have understood what he was trying to communicate. Stiltedly, Sunstreaker adjusted his grip on Ratchet and rose from his crouch next to Sideswipe. Sideswipe felt his spark tear with the anguish and the conflict pulsing from Sunstreaker.

"No," Ratchet hissed, his optics burned up at Sunstreaker. "No, you slagger, we are not going anywhere. Sit down, you glitch. Now."

Sunstreaker faltered. It was against everything in him to leave Sides but he saw the same damage on Ratchet as Sides did. He realized the Hatchet might not last if they didn't hurry.

"I didn't get myself blown up keep you alive just to leave you behind now," Ratchet snapped. "Especially since I'm the dead weight!"

Wordlessly, Sunstreaker knelt next to his brother, holding Ratchet that much more gently. Pain mixed with anger in Ratchet's optics. Neither brother was completely certain if the pain was just from Ratchet's wounds.

Ratchet dimmed his optics and grimaced. He felt too raw. He felt the way Sunstreaker was almost coddling him. Him! And Sideswipe was hovering only inches away. Slagging Primus, he felt like a broken sparkling. Anger boiled in his warn out circuits. There was no focus to it. He was angry at himself, at the Twins, at Hook. He was just... angry. The intensity of the emotion made him shake.

Sideswipe caught his brother's gaze as Ratchet looked away from them, almost hypnotized now by the gaping wound in his abdomen. This was how they communicated best. Passing their emotions over the relay, they could speak the rest of the way with their eyes. Both sets of optics held immense trepidation.

"You collapsed a few walls," Mirage said as he reappeared. He looked over the three bots with concern but didn't voice it. "The 'Cons can't reach this section at the moment. Can you walk, Sideswipe?"

"Ya," Sideswipe replied, almost hollow.

This time Sunstreaker carried Ratchet. He wouldn't risk his brother straining his leg or the Hatchet straining himself at all.

"I can walk," Ratchet hissed, but Sunstreaker ignored him.

As they slipped out of the 'Con compound, Sunstreaker led the way. It wasn't a conscious decision. Mirage was taking the back and Sideswipe was visibly favouring his good leg. But all of them trudged on as quickly as they could lest the 'Con vultures pick up their trail.

When Mirage lost his footing, Sideswipe was there to help him up. Sunstreaker almost felt guilty again. Sideswipe must have felt it.

"Look at it this way, you'll have symmetrical scars," Sideswipe said pointing out that Mirage had one wound on each side.

Mirage only glared, though he accepted Sideswipe's help. He regained his footing and continued on without a word. The Twins shared a grin. They kept walking, all the while Mirage silently repeated the mantra: Never again. Not for anything. Never again.

They weren't making good time. A screech from above, and a glance back showed the bots just how little distance they had covered. The Conehead Trine were coming up behind them, quicker than any of the Grounders could move.

"Take cover," a familiar voice yelled. Jazz appeared out of the sierra ahead of them.

Cover. It was a novel idea, except there wasn't any cover to speak of.

"To your left," Prowl called. Sideswipe didn't see what cover Prowl was referring to but he took the strategist's word as gold.

Prowl looked to Jazz for a moment before he took aim at Ramjet and fired. The Conehead spiralled out of control as the shot took out his left engine, and he rammed into the ground.

"We are going to talk about this later," Prowl said without looking back at Jazz again. Thrust and Dirge were diving and climbing, neither Autobot dared take their eyes off the Trine.

"Could I plead coincidence?" Jazz asked.

"No," Prowl replied.

Jazzed made a sound. He'd known this was inevitable. That didn't make the idea of a "talk" anymore pleasant. But it would wait. Ramjet was getting up and the rest of the Trine were circling.

"Target their wings," Prowl said. "They'll run if the whole Trine is disabled."

Taking cover in the ditch Prowl had spotted, Sunstreaker and Sideswipe faced each other as they cocooned Ratchet between them. The medic was quiet and compliant, a sure sign that the shock of his injuries was setting in again. Neither brother said anything, not even over the relay. They had gotten Ratchet this far, they would get him all the way home. The last of this fight was for Jazz and Prowl to deal with.

The brothers had as much concern for Mirage as they did for any other Autobot; that is, none when they had other interests at hand. Mirage kept an weary eye on the bots from a few feet away. It was safe to say he didn't want to get any closer to them. They were in that mode, the one where he would get shot if he surprised them. And frankly he had had as much contact with either of them as he cared to have in a life time. Staying low in the ditch, Mirage watched for 'Cons. The longer he stayed still, the more he wanted to be home. He was just a little leery of dealing with Cliffjumper. His minibot would not be impressed about being left out of the "fun." Frag, his sides hurt. But Primus, his spark hurt for Ratchet infinitely more.

"Incoming!" Jazz warned, Mirage shielded his head, and the Twins completely enveloped Ratchet as Dirge crashed face first into the ditch. Jazz peered down, and breathed an audible sigh of relief when he confirmed that Dirge had missed his friends. He reached his hand down to Mirage and smiled awkwardly and said: "Well, that's the last of them."

Mirage took his hand and glowered.

"Ya, I know," Jazz said. "I'm on your shit list."

Jazz helped Mirage pull himself out of the ditch; Prowl watched the Twins. They were acting with one mind now, working together to get themselves and Ratchet up and out without damaging anything. This was the first chance Jazz and Prowl had to see the extent of Ratchet's injuries. Both mechs' optics darkened at the state of their friend.

Prowl turned his back, keeping his eyes on the fallen Trine as he contacted the Ark.

"We need to get some distance between us and the Coneheads," Prowl said. "Optimus is heading out to meet us."

"Let's go then," Sunstreaker said, once again cradling Ratchet in his arms.

No one spoke as they walked, almost jogged, along the the familiar desert. Prowl led the way now, with Sunstreaker carrying Ratchet behind him. Sideswipe was doing his best to stay next to his brother. Mirage and Jazz took the rear.

Sideswipe glanced over at Ratchet every minute or so, reassuring himself that the old mech was still with them. Finally Ratchet huffed:

"I'm not dying. Quit your slagging hovering."

Both Prowl at the front, and Jazz in the back smiled at Ratchet's complaint. This was the first thing he had said since their arrival and it was a small comfort that Ratchet was well enough to be a grump. Sunstreaker seemed to slow. Prowl slowed and watched the Lamborghini. He might have been strong but Ratchet was a heavy mech, and Sunstreaker was running out of steam.

"I can walk!" Ratchet complained again, this time he actually attempted to wriggle from Sunstreaker's grip. Sunstreaker held him just that much tighter.

"I don't care," he said. "I'm not putting you down."

Ratchet growled. Sunstreaker shook his head and said it again: "I'm not putting you down."

"This is close enough," Prowl said. "Optimus will be here any minute."

The fact that Sunstreaker didn't argue was a sign of his growing exhaustion. His arms were throbbing but he was not about to let go of Ratchet, not even as they waiting. He crouched gingerly.

"Sunny," Jazz said. "Did you realize you were shot in the aft?"

"Yes, thank you," Sunstreaker snapped. "I was there."

Jazz snickered. In a low voice he said: "easy target."

Mirage smiled. Either Sunstreaker was too tired to fight or he didn't hear the insult. Jazz placed his money on tired. He fidgeted and itched to move closer to Prowl but he needed to give him a chance to be angry. Jazz was ecstatic that Ratchet was back with them and still with them but now he dreaded the very real possibility that Prowl would never trust him again. The idea made his mouth dry and his spark ache; he couldn't help but fidget and he couldn't tear his eyes away from Prowl. His growing anxiety must have been obvious, Mirage came over to him.

"He'll let it go," Mirage said. "He's glad to have Ratchet back now, and he's lovesick enough to want to keep you around. Me, I'm going to do everything in my power to out everyone of your little pranks to Prowl, just to keep you in a little trouble."

"Thanks," Jazz almost laughed. "If you forgive me I'll help you placate Cliffjumper."

Mirage dimmed his optics and huffed: "I'll consider it."

Familiar engines roared in the distance. They could finally get home.

End Chapter 5

A/N, I realize that I never warned of Mirage and Cliffjumper being a couple in this. Consider yourselves warned. 

So... Bet ya thought I'd abandoned this fic. Nope, I just had some issues with my muse but I'm doing well again. But since it has been so long since I've updated, I thought U;d give you chapter 6 as well. Alright now I don't know when exactly I will be updating again as I am having surgery tomorrow. But I am on top of chapters I've already gotten drafts written four so I'm thinking the next chapter will be in less than a week.

Now, check out the first chapter of my next fic, Four Letter Word staring Jazz and Prowl.


	6. Chapter 6

Pulling Teeth

Chapter 6

Ya so this fic is still got another couple of chapters left.

I just can't leave Ratchet alone.

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers; I'm just prostituting it for my amusement.

Summary: Ratchet's lost one too many patients. He isn't losing this one.

Warning: Gratuitous violence, torture, m/m/m robot alien smut. That should cover it.

Pairings: Jazz/ Prowl. Eventual Twins/ Ratchet

Neither Sideswipe or Sunstreaker left Ratchet's side when Optimus arrived. They sat in the back of his container and kept Ratchet still as the Autobots raced back to the Ark. Ratchet had dimmed his optics almost immediately after their leader had arrived, his every circuit cried out in pain, and Ratchet at last, lost his will to fight it. So he sank into a sort of stasis rather than feel the jarring of his body as Optimus roared out through the desert.

The world only came back into focus when Sunstreaker began lifted him up again. Seeing that they were home, Ratchet's innate stubbornness took hold and he tried to push himself away from Sunstreaker. He's hands didn't obey them. Ratchet looked at them, seeing his forearms clearly for the first time. He couldn't do anything. He couldn't push away from Sunstreaker, he couldn't hold a cup of energon, let a lone a wrench. He was worse than glitched.

"You'll be okay, Hatchet," Sideswipe promised from beside Sunstreaker. He was looking over Ratchet's head and could see how painfully focused Ratchet was on his arms, and how horrified and lost he looked. "You've fixed worse than this and you can tell First Aid and Wheeljack what to do."

Ratchet bristled at the gentleness in Sideswipe's voice. He didn't want false promises from some half crazed idiot. He didn't want sympathy, especially from a mech centuries younger than he was. Really, all he wanted was to disappear.

"Hey," Sunstreaker said. "I have a dent for you to buff out. Don't get used to being the patient. We'll have you back at work and throwing wrenches same as always before you know it."

"I told you I wasn't repairing that," Ratchet snapped. Behind his head, Sideswipe gave his brother a small smile. Their sparks spoke identically over their relay. Anger, and fear twined together with hope and relief.

Optimus hung back with Prowl, Jazz and Mirage. He should have been angry at Jazz for conjuring up this plan behind his back but his relief at Ratchet's return was too great.

"Thank you Jazz, Mirage," he said. "Please don't try something this risky again."

He didn't wait for an answer, knowing full well it would only be lip service, instead he went after the Twins and Ratchet. He wouldn't be able to relax until he knew his old friend was well and truly safe.

"Hey," Ratchet yelled from deeper within the Ark. "Mirage has to come to the medbay too."

Mirage just shrugged. Jazz took the chance to give his friend and subordinate a closer look. He breathed a heavy sigh and asked.

"Who shot you anyway?"

"Hook and Sunstreaker," Mirage replied, his tone mirrored his grouchy expression. But he made no move to go to the medbay. He didn't want to see Ratchet's wounds in such bright light, and it would be a while before there would be any hands free to fix his own wounds. They would wait until after the worst of Ratchet's repairs were finished.

"Sunstreaker," Cliffjumper growled as he raced from a side corridor. "I'll slag him!"

"It was an accident." Mirage said. He felt apprehensive about seeing his mate so soon. "He was just a little trigger happy."

"I'll use him for target practice," Cliffjumper said as he examined the two small wounds. "After I'm done with you. This is what happens if I'm not around to keep an eye on you."

Cliffjumper grumbled and knelt slightly; he held Mirage's hips and he gently lifted the larger mech so he was carrying him over his shoulder. Mirage was first surprised and then mortified, and he struck Cliffjumper on the back.

"Put me down!" Mirage demanded. Jazz snickered and reached for Prowl's hand.

"Nope," Cliffjumper replied. He ignored Mirage's not exactly gentle, not exactly painful attack. "I'm carrying you all the way to our berth just in case you decide to faint on the way."

"I have never fainted," Mirage exclaimed with a dignified sniff. "Cliffjumper, put me down before someone sees this display of yours."

"No," Cliffjumper said. "Let'em see."

"Oh Mirage is going to kill me," Jazz said even as he smiled after the mechs. He squeezed his mate's hand. "I'm sorry Prowl. I couldn't tell you my plan. I know you're a smart mech, the smartest, but I also know you would've told Optimus. You tell him everything."

"I'm sorry too, Jazz," Prowl said with a heavy spark. He felt guilty. "I would've told Optimus. I'm mad you went behind my back but I am relieved to have Ratchet back. However, in the future, please leave the planning to me. Fewer mechs get shot that way."

"I'll consider it," Jazz replied, grateful that Prowl squeezed his hand back.

Ratchet had never laid down on one of his tables. It had never occurred to him that he ever would. It was rare that Ratchet ever went into battle, and he had never been injured in one, not even scratched, since the beginnings of the war. He didn't want to lie on one now but Sunstreaker placed him onto one while Sideswipe raced to find Wheeljack and FirstAid.

"Where is Mirage," Ratchet asked Sunstreaker. He was not yet ready to be a patient.

"Probably in his berth," Sunstreaker said. "Guess he didn't listen."

"He needs repairs!" Ratchet complained, and tried to brace himself on his elbows.

"He'll get them," Sunstreaker said. He pressed his hand against the middle of Ratchet's upper chassis and gently held him down. "Worst injuries always go first, right Hatchet?"

"Slag it," Ratchet growled and shut his optics.

"Ya," Sunstreaker agreed. "But we're never going to let it happen again."

Wheeljack nearly fell over himself as he reached the table. Ratchet had no chance to ask Sunstreaker what he meant. FirstAid approached with more grace, even as he helped Sideswipe along, his leg having glitched again. Ratchet tried to smile at his student and his old friend but given Wheeljack's crestfallen look, the expression must not have been of any reassurance. The inventor and student took stock of Ratchet's injuries in silence.

It was FirstAid who spoke first, his gentle fingers on Ratchet's arms and his sharp optics intense with focus:

"The cuts are clean, Ratchet. Wheeljack's hands are just a little bit clumsy yet. He'll be up to soldering and reconnecting your circuits by tomorrow."

"Wheeljack's hands are always clumsy," Ratchet said. "And he knows it. I trust your hands, get my tools and I'll talk you through it."

"Are you sure?" FirstAid asked.

"Yes," Ratchet said. He didn't want to do this. He wanted to go offline and just let go for a little while. But if he needed his hands more than he needed his spark so there would be no rest. There would be time for that later.

"I'll help you," Wheeljack said, his ear lights flashing as he spoke. He fetched Ratchet's tools.

"You two can leave," Ratchet said, knowing the Twins were hovering by his head.

"We'd rather stay," Sideswipe said.

"Sides' leg is still glitched up, he'll need repairs anyway," Sunstreaker said. "You know if you let him wander off he'll find trouble."

"With you right on his aft, I'm sure," Ratchet retorted. "Fine, but no hovering. Stay on one of the other tables."

Being on another table didn't stop the Twins from hovering. Ratchet didn't need to see them to know that their optics were trained in his direction. They were acting like anxious parents; Ratchet wanted to kick them in their afts or hurl them out the door. He was used to them being abrasive, idiotic slaggers. This new manner of theirs, coddling him, made Ratchet bristle. They were treating like he would break in two if they looked at him wrong. Pity. That's what was spurning their treatment of him. Ratchet didn't want pity from anyone.

"Did you want us to start with your arms?" Firstaid asked. None of his anxiety showed on his face. "Or your chassis?"

"Arms," Ratchet said without bothering to think about it. "I can help repair myself if I can just grasp with my hands."

"You'll be able to do more than that, Ratchet," Wheeljack said. "Take it from me, medics make the worst patients. You need to see, right? So we can't have your optics go funny from the strain of sitting on your own."

"Me Swoop help?" The Dinobot asked, appearing through the door of Wheeljack's work shop. Ratchet had only just begun teaching him the finer points of repair, but his and Wheeljack's creation had proven to be a good student.

"Actually yes," Ratchet said. Swoop's entrance gave Ratchet one last chance to shore up his stubborn will before the task at hand. "Mirage has a pair of laser wounds. Find him and repair them, if it doesn't look like any of his internal circuits have been seriously damaged. If they have, make him come here."

"Me Swoop find him Mirage," Swoop said and rushed away. Ratchet looked after him, and took one last readying breath. To his far left, Sideswipe and Sunstreaker each took one of their own. FirstAid held up a painkiller but Ratchet shook his head. The best way for him to know if FirstAid did anything wrong, was if he felt it.

His left arm was actually quite easily repaired. Wheeljack beamed almost as widely as Ratchet did when FirstAid found the only damage one of the cables in that arm had been severed, the second only partially so. The cuts were clean, by Primus' will alone, the damaged cables hadn't even shorted out against his other wiring. FirstAid was able to fuse them back together with relative ease and with his arm still ripped open, Ratchet had been able to clench a fist.

Hook hadn't cut the cables of Ratchet's right arm nearly as cleanly. He managed to destroy a few of the sensory wires that let up into Ratchet's hand and fingers. Though the cables fused back together easily enough, the process actually took the better part of an hour but Ratchet wasn't paying any real attention to time. But the wire work was intricate and delicate. Ratchet realized quickly that he would have to cut out and replace a few of the wires and graft new ones in their place. He guided FirstAid through a basic stabilization and patch job for the wires. When he'd recovered from his loss of energon, Ratchet would open his arm back up and replace the wiring himself.

Wheeljack took charge of repairing the drill holes in his upper chassis and thighs. They were just through plating and skeletal structure, not circuits or tubes of any sort. Ratchet was surprised though at how much they had actually hurt once they had been repaired. He'd actually become a little used to the pain, he revelled a little being free of it.

FirstAid was painfully quiet while he had Ratchet return to a horizontal position so he could work on his abdomen. Ratchet couldn't see what his student was doing and he clenched his denta to keep from trembling. Wheeljack saw the growing panic on his face and patted his shoulder ever so gently.

"You're a great teacher," Wheeljack said. "Should've taught more classes at the academy."

"I need to replace a span of your coolant tubing," FirstAid stated, realizing that for sanity's sake, Ratchet needed an update.

Ratchet knew what the procedure entailed. There was no need for FirstAid to go over it with him. Normally a mech would be offline for it but Ratchet refused to go offline. He needed to know what was happening to him. It took him several minutes to realize that he couldn't feel anything. Somewhere along the line, FirstAid had stuck him some painkillers. He felt strangely light, no longer weighed down by the complaints of his body. It was a little eerie. His spark was throbbing in his chassis, and he felt a little fuzzy around the edges. He was in dire need of energon.

He floated in and out of complete awareness. Ratchet heard FirstAid pronounce the tubing replacement a success, and he heard his student prepare to replace the ruined armour of his stomach. Then he drifted out of awareness all together.

End Chapter 6

A/N


	7. Chapter 7

Pulling Teeth

Chapter 7

And now for the comfort in hurt/ comfort

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers; I'm just prostituting it for my amusement.

Summary: Ratchet's lost one too many patients. He isn't losing this one.

Warning: Gratuitous violence, torture, m/m/m robot alien smut. That should cover it.

Pairings: Jazz/ Prowl. Eventual Twins/ Ratchet

When Ratchet came back to awareness he could feel energon coursing steadily along in his systems. His energy had returned, but strangely he felt haggard and listless. Even as he opened his eyes and his spark warmed in the familiar surroundings that were his medbay, he fought back the listlessness and depression, and sat up

"Ratch!" Wheeljack exclaimed as he rushed over. "How are you feeling."

"Normal," Ratchet replied, not intentionally lying. He chose not to acknowledge the dark cloud hanging over his mind.

"Really?" Wheeljack asked, burbling with surprise.

"Yes," Ratchet said. Something in his tone made apprehension flicker in Wheeljack's optics. "I'm going to work on my arm."

"Shouldn't you wait?" Wheejack asked. "You only just woke up and you're still healing."

"I'm fine," Ratchet said almost viciously.

"Ratch..." Wheeljack began.

"I said I'm fine," Ratchet snapped; he turned away quickly, not wanting to risk Wheeljack detecting the heat coming off his face. He headed to his office without looking back.

The Twins took that moment to return. They just barely saw Ratchet's back before the office door slammed behind him. Both sets of optics narrowed and trained themselves on Wheeljack. The inventor didn't pay them any heed. He didn't take his eyes off Ratchet's door.

"What the slag happened?" Sunstreaker demanded.

"He wants to work on his arm," Wheeljack said quietly.

"He needs to rest," Sideswipe replied. "Shouldn't he be off the duty roster?"

"He is," Wheeljack said. "Until Optimus says otherwise."

"So he's fragged at Optimus?" Sideswipe asked. Sunstreaker had taken Wheeljack's lead and was staring at Ratchet's door.

"No, I haven't even told him yet," Wheeljack said and shrugged weakly. "He's just angry."

Wheeljack looked from Ratchet's door and back to the medbay's exit. He looked like a dog that had been kicked; he seemed to waver over whether to give Ratchet space or whether he should stay close. Sideswipe leaned against one of the tables and looked at Ratchet's door as well.

"When did you last refuel or recharge?" Sideswipe asked Wheeljack. "We'll keep an eye on the Hatchet."

"I don't know," Wheeljack said, looking more torn.

"You've been hanging around here for almost all day," Sideswipe said. "You need a break or Ratchet be after you."

"Maybe," Wheeljack consider the idea. "Just for a little while."

The nice thing about Wheeljack was that he was trusting. Sideswipe nodded and gave him a sympathetic look and Wheeljack bought it. He left through the nearest exit, head downcast. Sunstreaker snickered over the relay and applauded Sideswipe success at charm.

"We're not letting him stew," Sideswipe said, looking over to his brother.

"No," Sunstreaker said. "Let the others pussyfoot around him."

It wasn't pussyfooting, but the Twins knew they needed at least a small excuse to disturb Ratchet if he was in such a mood as to chase off Wheeljack. Sideswipe tapped the side of his head and left, returning moments later with a cup of energon. He'd considered high grade but guessed Ratchet would refuse it if he was focused on repairs. Sunstreaker smirked his approval, and followed Sideswipe over to Ratchet's office. Just as he arrived, he gave his brother a kick to his bad leg. Not really hard, but hard enough to make the leg seize. Sideswipe flashed his irritation over the relay; he didn't need to ask why Sunstreaker had done it. They thought with far too similar minds.

"Sunny, you're an ass," Sideswipe said over the relay. "You could've warned me."

"Sparkling," Sunstreaker retorted, and reached out to support Sides. With Sideswipe's arm over his shoulder, Sunstreaker opened the door, and received a wrench to his face for his troubles. Sunstreaker fell back with surprise and pain. Sideswipe stifled a yelp of surprise as he tried to catch both their footings. Ratchet glowered at them.

"What do you slaggers want?" Ratchet demanded, looking up from his arm. The Twins raged over their relay. Ratchet had opened his arm, from his wrist to his bicep, exposing all the complex circuitry. Lengths of wire different connectors, and vary sized solders lay on the table in front of him. Ratchet held a particularly small solder in his good hand, a forest of severed wires sprouted out from right arm, an inch below his wrist.

"You were either helping operate on yourself or offline for 24hrs," Sideswipe said, leaning heavily on Sunstreaker now that the yellow brother had regained his footing. "We thought you could use some fuel."

Ratchet watched them, suspicion evident in his eyes.

"We could help," Sunstreaker said, taking the cup from his brother and putting it on Ratchet's desk.

"How," Ratchet snapped, far more viciously than he intended.

"We could hand you stuff," Sunstreaker offered, ignoring Ratchet's tone. "You tell us what to do and we'll help."

In retrospect, Ratchet should have asked for Wheeljack's help but even five minutes before, had it been offered, he would have refused it. Ratchet knew he had to reign in his short fuse but he found himself incapable of it. But he always yelled and these slaggers, and they always deserved it, so he didn't feel guilty about snapping at them. So fine, if they could actually follow instructions, he could use them as glorified gophers and clamps.

"Fine," Ratchet sighed. "How much are you hamming that leg up?"

"Ah, just a little," Sideswipe replied. He put his full weight on his leg; it was kind enough to behave. "See?"

"Humph," Ratchet harrumphed. "Sit next to me and sit still."

Sideswipe obeyed, Ratchet watched him walk, with eyes sharper than any predator. Sunstreaker held back a smile, sharing his mirth with his brother through the relay. Ratchet was still the same 'Bot they'd always known, if a lot more beat up.

"Good," Ratchet muttered when Sideswipe dragged a chair over next to him and sat in it, doing his best impression of a statue. "You're the gopher, Sunstreaker. Don't move unless I tell you and stay out of my light."

The Twins had heard FirstAid and Ratchet talking about Ratchet's sensory wires. They knew that this was what Ratchet was repairing, and they both cursed Hook at the thought. Ratchet probably didn't remember the battle or the specific mechs he had treated, there had been so many, but the Twins held the memory dear. Sunstreaker had been caught in an explosion during the fall of Iacon, and his hands had been badly scorched. The sensors in his hands had been damaged and even with painkillers, both Twins had been howling in agony while they had waited for Sunstreaker's hands to be repaired. It had been Ratchet who had repaired them in the end. Sunny and Sides had been the new recruits to the Autobots and they hadn't yet explained the nature of their relay to anyone.

So when other medics had tried to pull Sideswipe away, tried to sedate either of them, Sideswipe had near killed more than one of them. Ratchet had realized that there was something odd with the brothers and had ordered Sideswipe be left alone, be left with him and Sunstreaker. He'd spoken to Sideswipe then, in his usual gruff tone, and sworn to Sideswipe that sedation would ease Sunny's pain and that he could stay and watch as Ratchet worked. Once Sunstreaker had come up from under the sedation, Sideswipe had relayed Ratchet's strict adherence to his word. They'd liked him best from that point on. Oh Optimus was fine, and Jazz was an entertaining foe, but Ratchet was the only 'Bot on Cybertron or Earth, other than each other, that either Twin would gladly die protecting.

They wanted to protect him now. Painkillers didn't seem to be all that effective against sensory damage, the best comfort the patient could find, was found with sedation but Ratchet couldn't sedate himself and still repair the damage. Though they could not feel his pain, but the Twins knew with all certainty that Ratchet must have been in agony. And yet he was able to keep from screaming, or even cursing. Ratchet cursed more than either of them, but he was silent now, keeping it all inside. Ratchet had never in all the time the Twins had known him been one to keep anything inside. They worried for him.

Sideswipe gently held wires together, and Sunstreaker fetched a plethora of tools. Neither moved unless Ratchet told them, and Ratchet only spoke to directly to one of them when he needed something. It was eerie. The Twins suffocated in the tense silence, almost sensing the storm brewing inside Ratchet. For his part, Ratchet never flinched, never tensed. His optics never dimmed or brightened, closed or widened.

And he was in horrific pain. Sensory wires were so sensitive that even the gentlest touch caused much suffering. Sideswipe's grip made Ratchet's system scream but he almost relished the feeling. He was causing it. He could have stopped it if he needed to. He had control of his life again. Finishing his repairs really wasn't about healing his pain now as much as it was about erasing the last of Hook's torment from his body and his mind.

Ratchet was surprised had how obedient the Twins were through his work. They didn't make a sound throughout the entire process and Ratchet knew hours had passed. When had they ever been quiet so long. Part of Ratchet raged at the change in them, but an equal part welcomed the silent, compliant aid. As long as they didn't stay this way. Nothing could change. Hook was not allowed to have left a lasting mark on Ratchet's life.

Eventually, Ratchet placed his solder on his desk and told Sideswipe to release the wires. Sunstreaker inched a little closer then; he hadn't been called to get anything in a while. The Twins watched with trepidation as Ratchet wriggled his fingers and flicked his other fingers against their tips. The humourless smile on the corners of Ratchet's lips meant that he had succeeded in replacing the mangled wires. Sideswipe grinned wildly back at his brother and pushed his chair back, wanted to celebrate the victory by standing in what felt like eons.

He promptly fell as his leg refused to obey. Sideswipe caught himself before he made a complete fool of himself. Ratchet looked at him with intensely dark optics. His arm was still splayed open but he pointed with it to his desk.

"Up," Ratchet ordered. "Let me see that leg."

"Ah Ratchet," Sideswipe said. "Your arm..."

"Your leg," Ratchet ordered again.

"Ratch..." Sideswipe argued again.

"Now," Ratchet demanded. His tone and his expression brokered no argument.

Hesitantly, Sideswipe obeyed. Sunstreaker hung back, brooding. Shadowed optics trained on Ratchet. The medic was not silent now. Grumbling about moronic mechs, and slagging circuits. He pulled his optics up from Sideswipe's leg to meet Sunstreaker's. There was a challenge there, a challenge for him to say something. Sunstreaker held back for now.

"Get over here and help your slagging twin," Ratchet said. He looked to Sideswipe now, who held a pensive expression on his face. "I need to access your leg's skeletal structure and cables. And I'm not performing another surgery on my desk."

Before Ratchet even began to removing Sideswipe's leg armour, he injected a painkiller into Sideswipe's circuits. He didn't think about it; you always tried to ease your patient's pain. Sideswipe looked off, away from Ratchet. Sunstreaker was there to meet his optics. They glared back at each other, but the anger was for Hook. Damn him to the Pit for lengthening Ratchet's torture even longer. Though they'd left him alive in the 'Con stronghold for now, sooner or later they would exact revenge for what was done, what was still being done, to Ratchet.

"Fragged cable is too tight," Ratchet grumbled, and set to work loosening the vital structure. He didn't even notice that his own arm structure was still exposed. He mummured his approval not long after he started his work, and stood up straight, and said: "the painkiller will wear off in a few minutes and you can test it out. You are off the duty roster until I'm certain there isn't anything else going on with it, and I get a chance to check over your other repairs."

"I'm dandy, Hatchet," Sideswipe promised.

"I decide that," Ratchet retorted. "No duty and no prank wars with Jazz."

"Here," Sunstreaker interrupted, holding Ratchet's arm plating and armour. "You're not finished yet."

"Right," Ratchet said. He closed up his arm while he waited for Sideswipe's painkiller to wear off. When he looked up from his arm, having put the finishing touch on his repairs, Sideswipe was there holding the forgotten cup of energon, and looking quite pleased with himself.

"Don't forget," Sideswipe chided.

"Fine," Ratchet took the cup. He didn't drink at first, and the Twin's twin optics focused in on him with almost frightening intensity. Swearing, Ratchet took a drink, only then did the Twins relax.

"And recharge," Sunstreaker said. "You're always beating me with wrenches when I don't after repairs."

"Are you enjoying this?" Ratchet asked, a hint of venom in his voice.

"No but someone's got to take care of you," Sunstreaker replied. "And we're more than a match for you.

Ratchet glowered, and reached for a wrench. It was an empty threat. Even as he drank his first cup of energon in too long, his could feel his systems were still sluggish. Recharging was exactly what he needed to do.

End Chapter 7


	8. Chapter 8

Pulling Teeth

Chapter 8

And more hurt and more comfort.

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers; I'm just prostituting it for my amusement.

Summary: Ratchet's lost one too many patients. He isn't losing this one.

Warning: Gratuitous violence, torture, m/m/m robot alien smut. That should cover it.

Pairings: Jazz/ Prowl. Eventual Twins/ Ratchet

His first flux came almost immediately after Ratchet had begun to recharge. All of his panels had been viciously splayed open and his wires had been torn up out of his body like the stuffing of a scarecrow. And he had been screaming. Begging for mercy and and for the end. But Hook had released him, handed him over to the Twins, his hands ruined beyond any hope of repair. The next thing he'd known he was in the bellows of the Ark, mopping up, of no more use than a service drone.

Ratchet had woken with a small cry and had run his hands over every one of his panels, verifying that he was indeed intact. He made a shaky sound, something not so different than a whimper. Then he growled. Every mech had memory fluxes. Good or bad, they were a part of the basic programming in every mech's spark. Ratchet had had them many times before, many horrible ones after the great battles. But this one was left his spark cold. His sensory wires ached slightly, residual pain that would fade in time. He couldn't shake the cold horror that flooded his systems.

"Idiot," Ratchet grumbled aloud. "Just a flux."

Though he craved a distraction from the flux, Ratchet stubbornly shut his optics again, and went back to his recharge. It didn't last long though. He had another flux each time he shut his optics to rest. After eight hours Ratchet felt even less rested and far more tense than before. But he was not spending one more second on his berth. Instead, he went looking for Optimus. Ratchet knew he'd be off the duty roster but he couldn't stay that way. There was no comfort in his own thoughts. He found Optimus in his office, Ironhide at his side. As good a leader as he was, Optimus could sometimes be blind to what was right in front of him. Ratchet huffed internally. Before he spoke, Ratchet considered how best to convince Prime that he was fit for duty.

"You've only been back a little over two days," Optimus said in bewilderment. When Ratchet had finally asked.. "Give yourself time to rest."

"Unless limbs were being reattached, when have we ever had the luxury of giving a 'Bot more than a couple of days off?" Ratchet argued. "I'm the only medic here, Optimus."

The truth of his words showed on both Optimus' and Ironhide's faces. Optimus shook his head wearily.

"I don't want you anywhere near a battle," Optimus said.

"I won't argue with you there," Ratchet replied.

"Alright," Optimus conceded defeated. "I want you to know I don't like this Ratchet. You've been into the Pit. You deserve a break."

"Trust me Optimus," Ratchet said. "A break is the last thing I need."

Ratchet left, as he did Ironhide put his had on Optimus' shoulder and said: "Wheeljack will keep an eye on him."

"I can take it from here," Wheeljack said looking up from the work bench he and Ratchet had spent the better part of the last few days at. They'd been building spare limbs. It seemed like every time they built up a stockpile, something happened to deplete them. They'd been meaning to work on them the week before but Wheeljack had still been working on that fragging recycling box and then he'd blown himself up. Some of their limbs could not be reproduced, such as Ratchet's hands as they were such specialized equipment, but most of them could. Which was good else, Wheeljack would have been an amputee a few hundred times over.

"I'm fine," Ratchet said. As he had said over and over each day. Wheeljack had been hovering, almost scared of speaking and asking Ratchet every few hours if he needed energon, or rest, or anything. Ratchet's answer each time had been the same. He didn't even join Wheeljack when he took a break to refuel, Ratchet kept a cup of energon with him as he worked and he stayed n the workshop for hours after Wheeljack had gone to recharge for the night. Wheejack watched him constantly with sad optics, and Ratchet had less and less to say to him.

"Ratch," Wheeljack whispered. "You've recharged no more than three hours a night for the last couple of days."

"I'm fine, Jack," Ratchet snapped. Wheeljack flinched. Ratchet felt guilty for it but couldn't help himself. He felt so angry; he didn't know why but he did and Wheeljack was the only one there to attract his ire.

"It's okay Ratch," Wheeljack said. "You can't expect to feel 100% after what happened."

"I said I'm fine!" Ratchet yelled, he literally shuddered with rage. Wheeljack reached out a hand to comfort him, but Ratchet swatted it away. "Go, just leave me alone."

Wheeljack lingered a little longer and Ratchet's mood grew darker, finally, the inventor left. Ratchet buried his face in his hands. He was fine. He was alive. He was home. Everything was fine. He didn't notice that everyone was keeping their distance. If an injury was minor enough, and so far they had all been, they went to FirstAid instead. No one came to the medbay to visit, Optimus didn't seek his counsel. The truth of the matter was Ratchet didn't want the company, he didn't want Wheeljack around. When he was around the others Ratchet realized that something had changed in all of this. Him.

"Hatchet," Sunstreaker said as he and his brother enter the workshop, Wheeljack's workshop that Ratchet had so kindly evicted him from. "Put down your slagging wrench. You're going to recharge now."

"No, I'm not," Ratchet said. His fingers tightened around his wrench and he contemplated throwing it at the slagger's face.

"Pit, yes you are," Sunstreaker said. Sideswipe nodded next to him. Then both 'Bots looked intently at Ratchet.

"Either get walking or we carry you," Sideswipe said.

Ratchet flung his wrench as hard as he could in the direction of Sideswipe's face. The red Lamborghini dodged it easily, then charged Ratchet. He moved far too fast for Ratchet to avoid, and before Ratchet could even move, Sideswipe had thrown him over his shoulder. Sunstreaker grumbled.

'You got to carry him last time," Sideswipe said over the relay.

'Fine,' Sunstreaker replied.

Ratchet shouted and flailed for all he was worth, pounding on Sideswipe's back and kicking wildly. Sideswipe patted him on the back and hummed in a low, soothing tone; Ratchet only fought harder. Sunstreaker opened the door out into the hall way and gestured to Sideswipe.

"Slaggers!" Ratchet swore. "Put me down! Put me down, right now!"

"Later Ratchet," Sideswipe said. "Once we get to our berth."

"Your berth..." Ratchet said, then he screamed. "I am not going to your berth! Put me down or I'll short out your 'face systems."

"We're not taking you there to face with you," Sunstreaker said, looking back over his shoulder. "We're going to make sure you recharge, even if we have to recharge on top of you."

On top of him... Ratchet's face heated up like a torch; what he wouldn't do for a wrench! Sideswipe seemed to rub his back gently and Ratchet hit him as hard as he could. The slagger must have felt the heat, and he was teasing Ratchet! Primus, he would never live it down. Getting heated face plates, at his age, and because of the Twins! If they ever breathed a word of it to anyone, he would kill them. There was no doubt that Sunstreaker knew; Sideswipe would have definitely informed his brother.

They entered the officers' hallway first. Ratchet never stopped yelling. The second door in the wing opened and Ironhide stepped out. He moved to stop the Twins, and both brothers gave him a steady look that made him stop.

"It's for his own good," Sideswipe said. Ironhide frowned, nodded and stepped back.

"Ironhide, you traitor!" Ratchet yelled.

"I can't win," Ironhide said. "To stop'em, I'd have to slag'em both, and then you'd have to repair them, and you still wouldn't get any rest. If I let'em go, you'll be on about it for hours later but at least you'd be rested up."

"Slag you!" Ratchet yelled. The Twins nodded to Primes right-hand Bot and continued on their merry way.

They made there way to their room, the one closest to the brig, passing a few other 'Bots as they went. Being that they were the Twins, and they were carrying Ratchet and he was swearing worse than Ironhide, everyone seemed to think it was best just to let them work it out. Ratchet had never seen their room before. He took the chance to look around, warily, when Sideswipe finally put him down.

It was the same size as all the other private rooms, save for the officer quarters, which were all about twice as large. The room seemed smaller though, most of the space taken up by a double sized berth. He stared defiantly at the berth, even as the sight of it made him wince. The rest would not be worth the fluxes. He wasn't yet drained enough to sleep for even a few hours before he would wake up with Hook's laughter burning in his audios. Both Twins took an arm now, and hauled Ratchet unceremoniously onto their berth. Ratchet fought back immediately, but the Twins pinned him down, each of them wrapping themselves around one of his arms and pulling up close to him.

"We understand, Ratchet," Sideswipe said, watching Ratchet's horrified face. "You're having fluxes. Rough ones, I bet. From our experience, the best way to avoid fluxes is to have another mech there to chase them away."

"That makes no fragging sense," Ratchet said, though he didn't try to deny he had fluxes.

"Sure it does," Sunstreaker said, he pulled his other hand up and rested it over Ratchet's shoulder. "It always feels better to share your berth."

"You two are glitched Lamborghinis," Ratchet said, exasperated. "Even for Lamborghinis."

"Maybe a little," Sunstreaker said. "But we promised to take care of you and we will."

"You might even thank us later," Sideswipe said. "But probably not."

"Fraggers," Ratchet sighed. The berth called him to recharge. "Both of you."

"Just try it," Sunstreaker said. "It's not like we're going to let you go until you do."

Ratchet sputtered and wriggled just a bit as token resistance. He could feel the Twins' sparks pulsing gently from behind their chassis' and the sensation gradually relaxed him, until Ratchet had a hard time keeping his optics open. Quicker than he would have expected or hoped, Ratchet surrendered himself to his recharge. The Twins did too, Sunstreaker resting his head into the hollow of Ratchet's neck, and  
Sideswipe curving down to rest his head on Ratchet's abdomen.

A memory flux jerked Ratchet awake sometime in the night. He woke so quickly, he didn't remember what exactly happened or what it was about. Ratchet felt foggy, not so alarmed, like the flux had been cut off before He had had a chance to experience it. The Twins' optics glowed in the dark and stared at him from his stomach and shoulder. Sunstreaker's fingers rubbed small circles over his shoulder while Sideswipe armed had moved to hug him around the middle.

"It's okay Ratch," Sunstreaker murmured, nuzzling his head, lazily, deeper into the crook of Ratchet's neck.

And for the rest of the night, it was. Ratchet woke hours later, completely rested and almost mellow. Well, mellow for him. The Twins were still recharging, wrapped around him and curled over him. It was stupid, but Ratchet wanted to stay like this just a little while longer. He felt secure and at ease, and safe in his plating. Oh he was going to pummel them both for this, but then he was going to have to thank them. The only thing that concerned Ratchet now was how he would recharge without the Twins.


	9. Chapter 9

Pulling Teeth

Chapter 9

And now, ladies and fangirls, smut.

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers; I'm just prostituting it for my amusement.

Summary: Ratchet's lost one too many patients. He isn't losing this one.

Warning: Gratuitous violence, torture, m/m/m robot alien smut. That should cover it.

Pairings: Jazz/ Prowl. Eventual Twins/ Ratchet

Ratchet woke up slowly, deliciously slowly. His audios came online first. He heard the slow, gentle rumblings of three engines, and the soft intakes of three mechs. His touch sensors came online next. He felt the heavy, forms of the Twins draped over him. Some time in their recharges, one of the Twins had tangle his leg around Ratchet's, the other had wrapped an arm around Ratchet's head, fingers smoothed lightly over his face plates. Ratchet really didn't want to open his optics, and thus surrender himself to waking. This limbo was so perfect. Just laying there, it was the perfect state of being.

"Wake up Ratch," Sunstreaker hummed into Ratchet's audios. The medic was too drowsy to stop the shiver of pleasure that swam through him at the sound and the sensation of the yellow Lamborghini's breath.

"Why?" Ratchet asked before he realized he'd spoken. His voice sounded impudent, and slightly hoarse from recharge.

"Cause you've been recharging for over ten hours," Sunstreaker said. "And it's time for you to refuel."

"Ten hours," Ratchet gasped, optics wide and he moved quickly to sit up. He was stopped from doing more than lifting his shoulders, Sideswipe couldn't be bothered to move from his perch on Ratchet's chassis. Now the medic repressed a shudder. He hadn't noticed the way Sideswipe had been gently running his fingers around Ratchet's armour, right over his spark casing and interface panel. His armour felt warm. It almost tingled under Sideswipe's casual touch.

"Easy Ratch," Sideswipe said, looking up from his indolent pose. "You're off the duty roster for the day. FirstAid stopped by when you were recharging, and you're off the roster."

"Slag," Ratchet grumbled angrily, every joint tensing. First Aid, he was learning to be tricky, and Ratchet wasn't the one teaching him. "Slagger. Why did he come here? Why for Primus' sake should I be on leave? Pit damned slagger sneaks me drugs and now he's hunting me down and putting me on leave?"

"For Primus' sake," Sunstreaker hissed, exasperated. "It's no like your being punished. Obviously you need a break, and you're just to hard headed to accept it."

"I'm fine," Ratchet said, sputtering with rage and denial.

"The Pit you are," Sunstreaker said. Defiant anger burned in Ratchet's optics made Sunstreaker's spark tighten painfully. Sideswipe crawled up Ratchet's body, his hand lay flat against Ratchet's chassis.

Ratchet's fist connected with Sunstreaker's face before the medic even realized he his arm was swinging. Sideswipe squirmed back, startled by the sudden savagery of Ratchet attack on his brother. Sunstreaker's head jerked back with a sickening crack. Ratchet's optics flashed brightly before his vision really came into focus and he settled his gaze on Sunstreaker. The yellow Lamborghini touched his fingers gingerly against his cheek, a small crack ran from his optic down almost to his chin. Seeing what he has done, and without real provocation, Ratchet covered his face with his hands and shook.

"Primus," Ratchet swore. "What's wrong with me?"

"You're hurting," Sideswipe said. He straddled Ratchet's lap, and examined his brother's face. "And you're lashing out."

"Frag," Ratchet swore again, he sat up on his elbows, and reach a hand to Sunstreaker. It gesture wasn't tentative, but his spark was. "Let me see."

Sideswipe let his own hand fall and took Sunstreaker's with his. The Twins shared a glance. Ratchet cursed himself. What kind of a medic was he, attacking Sunstreaker and causing harm. He gently pressed along the fine crack, and thanked Primus that he hadn't actually damaged Sunstreaker's optic. At least he had his tools on hand; Ratchet reached into his armour and retrieved a plate regenerator. Ratchet cupped one hand over the good side of Sunstreaker's face, and ran the generator along the crack with his other hand. Sunstreaker leaned into Ratchet's touch. Trust resonated from the gesture, and tugged at Ratchet's spark; he didn't deserve that trust.

"What kind of medic am I?" Ratchet said, not realizing he;d spoken aloud. "I should be off duty. I can't even fragging control myself."

"It builds up Ratch," Sunstreaker said, his own hand holding Ratchet's in place against his cheek. "Anger, fear, whatever. If you don't find away to let it go. It takes over."

A defeated sound escaped from Ratchet's vocalizer and he hung his head, optics shuttered tight. Sideswipe climbed off of him, and Ratchet pulled his legs up towards himself. The berth didn't move as Sideswipe caught up and left Sunstreaker and Ratchet alone. Ratchet didn't fight it when Sunstreaker pulled him up against his chassis, and held him there. He did fight when Sunstreaker cursed low and fidgeted.

"What's wrong with you?" Ratchet asked. He wriggled around, chassis to chassis with Sunstreaker, and looked over Sunstreaker's shoulder. The plating had regenerated a little on it's own, but Sunstreaker had obviously done nothing to have the grazed plating on his aft repaired. Ratchet made a disgusted sound and reached for his regenerator again.

"You said you weren't repairing that," Sunstreaker teased.

"I guess I lied," Ratchet replied. He motion for Sunstreaker to lay on his stomach and Ratchet took special care in repairing the small wound. He wanted it seamless, and perfect. "It won't be perfect until I buff it out."

"Later," Sunstreaker said. He sat back up and pulled Ratchet against him. Ratchet didn't look up and didn't open his optics. Sideswipe reappeared only minutes later. He joined them again on the berth, pressing up against Ratchet's side. Once again the medic was cocooned; Sideswipe took Ratchet's hand and pressed a couple of energon into it.

"Drink," Sideswipe said. "And tell us what you're thinking."

"Why do you care?" Ratchet asked, staring at the lilac liquid in his cup.

"Cause you care," Sunstreaker replied. "You care about every Autobot. We've seen you after battles, Ratch. When mechs have died, or almost died. We've seen what it does to you."

It killed parts of his spark. Every time he lost a patient, it killed a part of him. It killed the part of him that still remembered like before the Academy was obliterated and before his clinic had been bombed. That part of him seemed to get smaller and smaller, leaving only a tired, disillusioned old mech behind.

"Since we care about you and want to keep you around, well we've got to take care of you," Sideswipe added. He lifted Ratchet's wrist and beckoned him to drink. "So talk to us. For starters, why'd you run off in the first place. Suicidal stunts are our modus operandi."

"The box was going to blow," Ratchet said. "I didn't know how how big the blast might be. I had to get it away or I'd lose another patient, one I could have saved. I couldn't let that habit. I couldn't."

"You could have died," Sideswipe said quietly.

"It didn't matter," Ratchet recalled. His own death hadn't mattered at all to him. It was strange, he'd always had a fairly healthy sense of self preservation. "I wasn't trying to die or anything that stupid. If Sunny had noticed, if I'd said anything, he would have taken it. He would have gone and gotten slagged either by the slagging Seekers or by that slagging box. And you would have died."

Ratchet almost shivered with the force of the memory. With shuttered optics he continued: "I researched your relay and your Twin sparks and I know one can't exist without the other. I wouldn't have lost one patient, I would have lost two. And I couldn't and still wouldn't let that happen."

"We didn't think you remembered that," Sunstreaker murmured. He almost wanted to smile. He shuttered his optics instead and leaned his head over Ratchet's. His engine hummed with affection. The calming hum was echoed in Sideswipe. Ratchet relaxed. Perhaps hypnotized. Sunstreaker really hated the idea but he needed to kill the mood.

"What are you're fluxes about?" Sunstreaker asked. He wrapped one arm around Ratchet stomach; Sideswipe pressed one hand against Ratchet's upper chassis.

"I'm nothing without my hands," Ratchet said eventually. "Hook knew that. That's why he did what he did to my arms. He knew that would break me."

"It didn't," Sideswipe said fiercely. "You didn't break."

"Yes, I did," Ratchet said. "I didn't tell him any codes or anything, but I broke. I knew I was nothing without my hands and he knew it too. He knew I knew it. He won."

"No," Sideswipe said. Rage screamed in both the Twins' sparks. "He didn't win. You're alive. You didn't give him any codes and your arms work."

"I feel broken," Ratchet said. "Knowing he knows how easy it is to break me. Knowing you know..."

"No," Sunstreaker growled and held Ratchet tighter. "You're banged up. You've been banged up for millenia, but you aren't broken and you weren't! Ratch, you would have figured out how to live without your arms. It would have been rough but you are so strong. You would have figured it out, we would have helped, everyone would have helped."

"You think so," Ratchet said. The laugh vibrating through his vocalizer was self-deprecating. "Cause I think I would've ended up as a janitorial drone at best."

"Never," Sunstreaker said. "We wouldn't even have need to fight anyone on that. You've been friends with Optimus for how long? The big bot never would have let you fall that far. Wheeljack would've come up with some crazy invention to help you work, and you still could've taught FirstAid and Swoop."

"But this is what your fluxes have been about, right?" Sideswipe asked. "Being useless?"

"Yes," Ratchet grumbled, he fidgeted now, uncomfortable with the attention.

"Never going to happen," Sunstreaker said.

"You aren't capable of sitting around doing nothing, Ratch," Sideswipe said. "Without arms, without legs, even without a head you'd find away to pull your own."

Ratchet laughed. The Twins seemed to think he was far stronger than he was. But he was too old and too warn to be that strong. It was embarrassing to think. Ironhide was as old as he was and yet there was nothing that could ever bring Optimus's bodyguard down. He guessed they were aging differently and Ratchet was not ageing nearly so well.

"You're wrong," Ratchet said when he finally stopped laughing. "I'm too old to change my ways. I'm just too old."

"You're not too old," Sunstreaker said, a strange smirk crossed his mouth. "If humans can teach old dogs new tricks, we could always teach you."

"What could you two teach me?" Ratchet scoffed dubiously. Pompous, cocky bratbot.

"How to relax for one thing," Sunstreaker said. To illustrate his point, Sunstreaker slid his fingers between Ratchet's abdominal armour and slowly rubbed a few wires and cables between his fingers. Days, maybe years of stress, melted from Ratchet's sides. It was hard, but Ratchet managed to scowl.

"Where'd you learn to do that?" Ratchet asked. His optics dimmed just a little and he couldn't bring himself to ask Sunstreaker to stop. He should've; it was never wise to encourage these two but Sunstreaker had the main cables that ran up his sides between his fingers and the way he was rolling them... A pleasure bot couldn't have done better.

"Practice," Sunstreaker said tilting his head to lean it against the side of Ratchet's.

"Lamborghinis" Ratchet grumbled with his optics shuttered. He opened them when he felt Sideswipe straddle his lap and lean in close to his face.

"Yep, we're great," Sideswipe said. "And we're going to teach you everything we know about how to relax a wound up mech."

He should have said no. He should have said anything, but instead Ratchet watched Sideswipe leaned the rest of the way in and kissed him lightly on the forehead. Ratchet angled is optics up before he grumbled unintelligible, his hackles rising. And he was going to move his head away, maybe his whole self but just then Sunstreaker found his way through the gap of his back armour and tangled his fingers in the mesh of wire. Ratchet couldn't bite back a sigh.

"Relax," Sideswipe said, laughter in his voice. He kiss the tip of Ratchet's nose and reached for the wiring of Ratchet's shoulder. He wasn't going to be upstaged by his brother and he let Sunstreaker know it over their relay. The challenge was met, Ratchet had no idea what he was in for.

Ratchet groaned as his arms went pleasantly limp; the empty cup of energon slid from his hand onto his lap. Sideswipe carefully unlatched Ratchet's chassis armour and peeled it off the medic, before discarding it. Sunstreaker smirked and peeled away the back piece of Ratchet's armour tossed it unceremoniously aside.

"Is there a reason you are stripping me?" Ratchet asked, there was no bite in his tone, rather is was deep and slightly husky with lingering pleasure.

"Cause we want better access to all your wires and cables," Sideswipe replied.

"So we can melt you into a happy goo," Sunstreaker said. "And 'face you senseless."

"Wait..." Ratchet paused. "What? Have you slaggers lost your minds."

"Nope," Sunstreaker breathed into Ratchet's audios. "But when we're done, you'll have lost yours."

"And if I say no?" Ratchet asked. Sunstreaker leaned Ratchet's heat over his shoulder and looked the medic square in the face.

"We'll leave you alone," Sunstreaker said. Sideswipe nodded.

"But we won't like it," Sideswipe said. "We want to 'face you. And we think you need it."

"Well, Ratch?" Sunstreaker asked. "You going to ask us to stop?"

Ratchet had to think about it. The Twins didn't move. Sunstreaker cuddling him from behind, Sideswipe from his front. They kept their hands still, away from his sensory wires and cables. They allowed him, maybe even wanted him to think. His processor was sluggish; it had been so long since anyone had touched him, since he'd ever touched himself, Ratchet was highly sensitive. And it did feel good. Even just sitting here with the Twins felt good. It felt different than just sitting with Wheeljack, this was so much more overwhelming but in such a good way. Ratchet would never have guessed that either brother had this, almost, tender side to them. He'd never faced with more than one mech at a time, or with mech's so much younger than him but Ratchet had to admit that the idea was enticing. But Sideswipe was a prankster, and Primus knew what Sunstreaker did for fun other than complain, this could all just be a bet or a game. Why would they want him, anyways.

"Is this a prank, or a bet?" Ratchet asked, his voice surprisingly soft, even vulnerable. He cleared his throat and narrowed his optics. "Because if it is, I will take you both a part and turn you into chairs."

"Ouch," Sideswipe grimaced. He cupped Ratchet's face and leaned in unbearably close. "We're doing this because we want you. And because you need a couple of distractions."

"And we can be very distracting," Sunstreaker said, he held his hands just over Ratchet's spine. The near touch was tempting.

"Slagging brats," Ratchet grumbled and sucked air in through his intakes. But he'd made his decision and closed the small space between he and Sideswipe and kissed the red Lamborghini. It was a rather simple kiss, sort of cautious and maybe awkward. Sideswipe didn't let it stay that way.

He crushed his mouth against Ratchet's and nibbled on the medic's lip in a bid to deepen the kiss. Ratchet parted his lips and Sideswipe immediately dove in, tasting Ratchet and exploring his denta and glossa with his own glossa. Sideswipe tasted Ratchet's moan and return his own as Sunstreaker nibbled along the cables of Ratchet's back, and rubbed circles over those of his hips.

It was too intense. Ratchet arched under Sunstreaker's mouth and did his fair best to explore Sideswipe evil mouth even as Sideswipe overpowered him. He tried to give as good as he got, feeling his way to Sideswipe's neck, and teasing the wires there that he knew would drive the other mech crazy. Sideswipe shivered and ran his hands all over Ratchet's chest and abdomen, playing Ratchet's sensitive wires and cables like a musician, and drawing breathy groans from Ratchet.

Sideswipe broke the kiss and turned his attention to Ratchet's quivering neck. He bit one of the ultra sensitive cables there, earning him a loud cry of pleasure from Ratchet, and a beautiful shudder from the red and white mech. He laid back and pulled Ratchet on top of him as he relentless lavished ever cable he could reach with bites and licks and sucks. Ratchet's was so close to losing his mind. Sideswipe took Ratchet's hips in his hands and raised Ratchet's aft.

Sunstreaker took his brother's invitation with a grin, and spread Ratchet's legs farther apart to allow himself better access. He used his glossa to taste the lubricants leaking from the sealed interface panel between Ratchet's thighs. Ratchet was leaking so much lubricant already Sunstreaker purred against the panel. Ratchet tasted like high grade, potent and well aged.

Ratchet whined. It was an incoherent plea and it made the Twins' intakes rev into overdrive as their systems boiled.

"Open for him," Sideswipe said as he tasted the edges of the plating that covered the interface panel that surrounded Ratchet's spark chamber. Ratchet shook and with another needy sound, obeyed.

Sunstreaker dove in, glossa whirling around the rim of Ratchet's sopping valve before lunging into the quivering, pulsing valve. Ratchet gasped and whimpered as his sensor screamed with pleasure, his cable hardened fully, instantly and leaked as Ratchet came ever closer to overload.

"Oh, oh!" Ratchet moaned wordlessly. Sideswipe pushed him up and back, into Sunstreaker's mouth.

"On your knees," Sideswipe ordered. Ratchet struggled to obey. His arms shook, felt frameless, as if his protoform was made of jelly. Sideswipe didn't make him hold his own for long, the red Lamborghini rolled around and pushed himself under Ratchet, and taking the medic's cable into his mouth.

"Primus," Ratchet cried, he collapsed onto his forearms onto Sideswipe's stomach. Sideswipe sucked him deep, his mouth and throat like a hot, wet vice. Sunstreaker thrust his tongue so deep inside Ratchet that he teased the most sensitive sensory nodes with Ratchet's valve. Overcome by the brothers, all Ratchet could do was moan and cry: "Primus."

He wanted to touch them, return the pleasure he was receiving but the Twins were in a giving mood and they overwhelmed his senses and made it impossible for him to plan a move, or plant a kiss. Later, he would touch them, and overwhelm them, for know all he could do was receive.

Fingers, Primus knew how many, pushed into his over-sensitized valve, stretching the rarely used component, almost painfully. Ratchet whined and groaned as he was stretched, and as he was swallowed to the root.

"Sunstreaker!" Ratchet screamed as seconds after the fingers left him, Sunstreaker eased the first inches of his cable into his valve. Ratchet felt the malleable walls of his valve spread wide for the brutally hot invader. Sunstreaker pulled back and thrust forward until his cable was buried completely inside Ratchet.

"Gah," Ratchet groaned and whimpered. He was so big. So big. Ratchet's valve struggled to adjust around Sunstreaker's tense cord as the yellow Lamborghini pulled out and thrust deep. The sounds of metal grinding against metal and the squelch of Sunstreaker cord imbedding in Ratchet echoed around the room. Sideswipe ran his glossa down Ratchet's spike and tasted the lubricants forced from his valve. Ratchet was so hot to the touch he almost burned.

Sideswipe swallowed Ratchet's cable just as the medic shuddered and screamed as his overload took him, the red twin drank Ratchet's fluid eagerly, swallowing every drop. Ratchet went limp over him and Sideswipe slid free before sitting up and pulling himself and Ratchet up. He faced his brother, who was still hard and buried in Ratchet's depth. The Twins grinned as Sideswipe inched forward and they both lifted Ratchet up. The medic clung to Sideswipe's shoulders, and Sideswipe held his and his brother's cords together as they slowly lowered Ratchet onto them both.

"It's too much," Ratchet complained, to limp from his overload to fight.

"Slaggers," Ratchet swore as his valve was stretched impossibly wide as he took the tips of both the Twins cords and slowly sank down on them.

He ached. It wasn't exactly unpleasant but Ratchet's legs, and especially his aft ached enough that alarms in his processor warned him against moving. The Twins were awake again as well, their limbs tangled in his. How many times had they made him overload? How many time's had they faced him, cord and cable, basic interface or port and processor. Ratchet dared not try and count. He glowered up and then down at each Twin. Primus they had so much energy. And they both looked far too pleased with themselves.

"Please tell me you aren't trying to seduce me just for some sort of hormonal release," Ratchet said in between gasp. Slagging Twins were damned distracting.

"Nope," Sunstreaker said as he briefly, and only briefly removed his mouth from Ratchets neck.

"For you maybe," Sideswipe added, his skilled fingers deftly opening Ratchet's chest plate. "We're fine."

End Fic

A/N There you go my lovelies. Take it in it's mostly unedited state for now. My proofreader will be back on this side of the Pacific on the 13th of January, and some time after that I will replace this post with a cleaned up, snicker, version.


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